


The Age Of Indecency

by Awakened_Angel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gendry is a Baratheon, He Just Doesn't Know It Yet, Major families are socialites, Manhattan, Mechanic Gendry, Older Arya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 94,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4201086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awakened_Angel/pseuds/Awakened_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New York has always been run by families who stood just a little higher on the social food chain than others, it's been that way for centuries. Socialite Arya Stark refuses to be a pawn in this game of power, and does whatever she can to rebel against her family.<br/>And in comes Gendry Waters, a mechanic from Brooklyn who fascinates Arya in every way. But he has boundaries of his own, and the last thing he needs is to involve himself with a reckless girl looking to slum it on the wrong side of the tracks.</p><p>However, he has no choice but to fall into the lavish lifestyle of the elite when questions about his own life rises to the surface. The families fighting in this eternal power struggle will have to deal with a new chess piece entering the game of Manhattan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Proposal To Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want this story to make sense for you before you begin, I suggest you read this: The Starks, Baratheons, Lannisters, and Tyrells are families of socialites that rule Manhattan. The Baratheons and Tyrells are political families (Robert is the governor of Manhattan), the Starks own a real estate industry, and the Lannisters are media moguls who own almost all the news stations, magazines, and papers in the state of New York.
> 
> This story is definitely Gendrya-centric, and Arya and Gendry are the two main characters, but the other characters' plots will be interwoven together with their story as a whole.
> 
> To see any inspiration for this story / chapter, look at the end of the chapter!

The house was quiet.

Granted, it was a large house, but still, it was quiet. And with a family the size of the Starks, it was bound to always be noisy, especially with their dogs. And normally it was. But for some reason, every step that Arya took echoed through the halls around her.

She wasn't used to this. It was true her father, Eddard Stark, was hardly ever home. He owned Stark Industries, which was #3 on the list of Top Five Most Successful Real Estate Companies in the World. Apparently the first was somewhere in Australia. And Robb, the oldest of the Stark children, was busy learning more and more about the company every single day, something he'd been doing since he was seven, so he could take over when he was older and Ned was no longer able to run it. But her mother, Catelyn, was home most of the time. She was your typical stay-at-home mom. Sansa, Arya's older sister, was either out shopping, going on dates with her boyfriend Joffrey, or working as a journalist at  _Envy Magazine_ , owned by her best friend Margaery Tyrell. Arya herself liked to stay busy, as well, and between summer classes for college and finding a job, she wasn't home often, either. Bran, her younger brother, was getting ready to disappear to Europe to study abroad for his first year at college once summer ended. And the youngest, Rickon, wasn't yet old enough to leave as he pleased according to Cat.

Arya called out the names of each of her family members and drew her eyebrows together in confusion when she got no response.  _Has something happened at the company_? Arya wondered to herself as she walked to the kitchen. She knew her parents had let the maids have the rest of the week off. Was her family about to enter debt? Arya's skin prickled at the thought of all her father's hard work deteriorating in front of her and she hadn't even noticed.

"Oh, you're home."

Arya jumped and turned to find her sister Sansa walking through the house with five or six grocery bags on her arms. "Sansa!"

Apparently Sansa was aware that she had given her sister a fright, because she paused and turned to her after setting the bags on the counter. "Sorry for scaring you. I thought you would have at least heard me come in to the house." She shrugged, her long red hair falling behind her shoulder, and began unloading the items from the bags. Arya moved to start helping her put everything where they belonged. "Do you know where everybody is?" Sansa asked, and when she got a shake of her head in reply, she nodded to herself and put a box of cereal in the cupboard. Together, they worked in silence until all the bags were empty and Sansa hopped up on the counter with an apple in her hand.

"Joffrey's coming over tonight for dinner," Sansa informed her, taking a bite out of her fruit.

Arya couldn't help it; she wrinkled her nose in disgust as she turned away from her sister to look through the fridge. "Do I have to be  _present_  for this dinner?" she asked snidely.

"Arya!" Sansa gasped. "He's my boyfriend. I love him. And the rest of the Baratheon's are going to be there, too. It's a  _family dinner_."

Arya shrugged her shoulders and pulled out a carton of orange juice. "You guys have been dating for seven years, and he still hasn't asked you to marry him."

Sansa's face turned red and Arya had a feeling she had hit way below the belt this time. Sansa and Joffrey had been together since they were fifteen, and now they were twenty-two and there was still no rock on her ring finger. Arya could tell it irked her older sister to no end, but she secretly hoped that if it continued on like this, than Sansa would finally end it with him. Forget that their fathers had been best friends since childhood, Joffrey was awful and everyone knew it but Sansa.

"Joffrey loves me," Sansa whispered, and to Arya it sounded like a pathetic attempt at convincing not only her, but Sansa as well.

However, Arya felt a rush of sympathy for her older sister, so she nodded silently and disappeared up the stairs of the house. The Stark family resided in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, New York, in a large three-floor penthouse. As far as Arya was concerned, they had more than enough space to fit all eight of them, three maids, and a private swimming pool. Yes, the Stark family definitely lived comfortably and luxuriously. And even Arya had to admit, she liked her lifestyle. What was there to dislike about it? The only problem was that she knew how there were so many more people who didn't have access to a private elevator that escorted them back home every day.

Arya opened the door to her room and right away, she felt more comfortable. Her room was her personal safe haven, designed to fit her exact tastes when she turned eighteen, courtesy of her mother. It was painted a startlingly pure white and covered with pictures of vintage dancers and old movies, and books were littered everywhere, from her dressers and desk, to the bed, to her actual bookshelves.

She collapsed on her bed and kicked off her flip flops, rolling over on her stomach and taking her laptop from its charger. She logged into her Facebook a little unwillingly and looked through the various posts and photos that were in front of her. Once again, she cursed Sansa for pressuring her into doing this.

Logging out, Arya set her laptop aside and rolled off her bed, walking over to her closet. She changed out of her clothes and threw them in the laundry basket to trade them for a pair of drawstring shorts and a white tank top.

"Arya! Mom and Dad are home!" Sansa yelled from the bottom of the stairs. Arya walked to the top of the steps to glimpse her mother's red hair that matched Sansa's, and went back down to the living room.

Immediately, Cat started on her daughter. "You'll have to change," she said as a greeting. She saw Arya was going to protest (she had  _just_  changed), and interrupted before she could. "We're having guests over in a few hours! And I know Sansa told you about it."

Arya sighed and turned away from her mother, focusing on her dad. "Hi, Dad," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

Ned smiled at her in return and shed his suit jacket, loosening his tie.

Sansa leaned against the kitchen counter. "How was work?"

Ned automatically tensed up. "Stressful. They're all giving me problems because I want to expand the company again." Stark Industries had already expanded over half of America, but the goal was to always go bigger.

"I'm sure they'll give in sooner or later. They have to. You're their boss." Sansa flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Where's Robb?"

"Right here," a new voice announced. Arya turned around to see her older brother Robb walking into the kitchen holding hands with his fiancee Jeyne Westerling. She was a great deal smaller than him, and she looked almost delicate. But ever since Robb had proposed, Jeyne had been practically glowing. She could have been pregnant, and Arya would have suspected it herself if she didn't know any better.

Arya said a polite hello to Jeyne and Robb and managed to spend exactly eight minutes spending time with her family before Catelyn told Arya she needed to go change into something more appropriate because the Baratheons would be here soon. Arya pouted all the way upstairs and opened her closet once more, throwing off her tank top and shorts and tossing them on the floor. She went to the back of her closet, where she kept all of her clothes for nights just like these, when she needed something  _appropriate_ , and ended up pulling out a dark purple dress that came up to her knees. Right as she finished putting it on, she heard a knock on her door and turned to face the intruder.

"Hey, Arya," Jon said softly. Arya felt all the tension leave her body immediately and went over to hug him tightly. He was another older brother, but he was only her half brother, born from Ned and an unknown woman who he refused to ever talk about. The story behind Jon's birth was a complicated one, a story that Arya never truly learned, but eventually Arya got Jon to tell it to her: Two months after Robb had been born, Ned had been going on frequent business trips and eventually Cat got sick of it. Demanding they be separated, Cat kicked Ned out and Ned moved in with his brother, Benjen. About a year later, Cat came back to him only to find that he had fathered Jon and that the mother had gone into premature labor and died in birth. Refusing to give up the child, Ned convinced Cat to accept him into the family.

"You look very pretty tonight," Jon commented, looking down at her dress.

Arya fidgeted uncomfortably, picking up the sleeveless dress. She felt like it was falling down her chest and she'd be exposed any minute. "Baratheons are coming over tonight for some special dinner tonight." Her eyes brightened at the possibility of making fun of Joffrey with Jon. "Will you be there?" she asked hopefully.

Jon shook his head sadly. "No. Catelyn doesn't think it would be appropriate for me to be there tonight."

Arya scoffed in bewilderment and was about to say something but Jon cut her off with a look.

Cat may have allowed Jon to be raised as a Stark but never had Cat been able to accept him as a true member of their family. Arya felt overwhelming pity for Jon. It wasn't his fault that he had been born, and it was just another reason on the list stating things that Cat did that infuriated Arya to no end. Arya loved her brother, and thought of him as a true Stark, but Jon himself didn't seem to think of it like that. He didn't even take Stark as a last name, preferring to go by Jon Snow. Arya thought it was rather sad, but he never listened to her when she tried to convince him otherwise.

"That's hardly fair," Arya managed to get in. "You're part of the family, you should be treated like it. Doesn't matter who your parents are, you're a Stark. Just tell Dad and I'm sure he'll manage to convince her for you."

Jon shook his head. "No, I won't. I can't do that to him. I won't put myself between his wife and his son that he never meant to have." Arya punched him in the arm. "What was that for?"

"You weren't a mistake, if that's what you're thinking. It's not your fault she's coldhearted. She's the one who kicked Dad out in the first place. It was fair of him to see whoever he pleased at the time."

Jon sat down on Arya's bed and shrugged like it didn't bother him, but Arya knew better. "But she came back to him. And she was right to be upset, just a little. They did have a child together, too. And they ended up having four more. If I were Cat, I wouldn't want a reminder of my husband's past lovers living in my house."

Arya sat down next to Jon, already itching in her dress. "It isn't fair how she treats you. And you're such a stupid pushover. You just let her say whatever she wants to you. When she decides you're worth her time to speak to, anyway."

Jon gave Arya a little nudge in the shoulder and she looked up at him with sad eyes. "If you want, I'll be waiting for you by the pool when the dinner is done so that we can make fun of Joffrey Baratheon and his stupid hair gel together."

Arya laughed despite her mood and nodded. She left Jon in her room and walked downstairs to the dining room.

 _The Starks really did have too much of everything_ , Arya thought to herself as she took in the room.

It was a large room with a long cherry wood table that managed to seat twelve, one seat at each head of the table with five on either side. A large glittering chandelier sparkled above the exact center of the table, where a vase of white roses sat. Behind the table was a wall split in half: The top half was a mirror and the bottom was a buffet that jutted out from the rest of the wall and had two separate cabinets, one for the special china and that held a wine rack. It was truly a beautiful room, like the rest of the house, but it was also incredibly too expensive for Arya's tastes.

"Oh, good, you've changed," Sansa said as she came breezing through the dining room carrying a stack of plates. "I wish Dad hadn't given the maids the rest of the week off. I know they have lives of their own, but really! We're having company tonight! This is an important dinner to me, to everyone, and we're all rushing to get the work done last minute." Sansa glanced up at her sister, who was watching her set the plates down at each seat with slight distaste. "Get the soup bowls, would you please?" she asked sweetly.

Arya didn't bother to argue; she went off to get the soup bowls, along with the salad plates to keep Sansa from asking her later. Her relationship with her older sister had never been the best. They were complete opposites of each other. Sansa loved all things girly and pink, with sparkles and glitters thrown in to match. She was a hopeless romantic to the core. Arya herself preferred to work as much as she could, focusing on her classes and her dance lessons. She didn't want to have to worry about things such as boys just yet. She was only nineteen, for crying out loud!

Just as they were finishing up setting the table, a knock came on the door. Sansa squeaked girlishly, immediately smoothing out her outfit. She looked perfect, though, in a white dress with long sleeves made of lace. She had on white sandals to match, and her hair was pulled up in a nice ponytail.

The rest of the family filed into the dining room as Cat and Ned went to open the door. Sometime while Arya was getting ready and talking with Jon, Bran and Rickon had arrived home. Both were wearing freshly ironed dress shirts and their best pairs of pants.

Within a few moments, the Baratheons had entered the room: Robert, with his wife Cersei Lannister, who had reluctantly taken her husband's name at the request of her father, came in first, followed by their three children Joffrey, who gave Sansa a light kiss on her lips, Myrcella, and the youngest Tommen. The sight of them made Arya want to gag.

"Dinner is just coming out of the oven right now. Why don't you all sit and I'll sort it out?" Cat said before going back in the kitchen. Arya noticed she didn't mention the cooks had already made everything and set it aside to be heated up for this exact moment.

Ned sat at the head of the table and Robert sat at the other end, with Cersei next to him, followed by Tommen, Bran, Robb, and an empty seat to be filled by Cat. Arya took her usual seat next to Ned and cringed internally when Sansa next to her with Joffrey on her other side. Rickon sat next to Joffrey and Myrcella took a seat beside him.

When Cat brought served each person a steaming bowl of soup, Arya saw Cersei follow her mother's movements with a glint of malice in her eyes.

"Where is your help, Catelyn?" Cersei asked her. "I recall a few people lurking about the last time I was here."

Cat sat down next to her husband and picked up her soup spoon. "Yes, but Ned has let them have the rest of the week off, good man that he is. I do hope my cooking tastes as good as I hope it does."

Arya had to disguise her snort as a cough when Sansa kicked her under the table.

The dinner seemed to be going as slow as it possibly could. Arya could barely keep her eyes open or keep track of all the conversations that were going on. Cersei and Robert were muttering under their breath to each other and they appeared to be arguing but she couldn't know for sure since they were on the other end of the table. Myrcella, Rickon, Tommen and Bran had delved into a conversation all about different types of television shows they liked. Sansa and Joffrey were making eyes at each other between bites of their food, though Joffrey looked like he had smelled something bad and Sansa looked just about ready to faint. And Robb was busy discussing some business matters with Ned and Cat in between throwing threatening glares in Joffrey's general direction. Arya herself was already getting tired by the time they had reached the main course of pasta and she had barely touched her salad. She tried to ignore the looks that Cat was sending her way, silently telling her to eat her food or try to manage a smile or start a conversation. But she couldn't. The Baratheons irked Arya. They gave her an odd feeling. Robert drank too much and laughed too loud, slept with too many women that weren't his wife and caused great scenes over the smallest things. Cersei was rude and delivered backhanded compliments to everyone except her three children. And Joffrey was possibly the most rude, hateful, and meanest person to ever walk the earth. Tommen and Myrcella were okay in Arya's eyes, but she had  _nothing_  in common with them. She couldn't have a conversation with them if she tried.

Arya twirled her spaghetti around and around on her fork absentmindedly, thinking of what Jon was doing right now. He was probably in his room, watching TV or listening to music with his headphones in to block out the loud noise of the two families eating right now. She hoped he'd gotten to eat before they had arrived.

"So, Arya," Cersei began from the other side of the table. "I hear you're taking a few summer classes. Isn't that nice?" Once again, she had that look that made Arya feel self-conscious about every part of herself. "But, don't you have a major in dance at college right now? Why not the opposite? You could at least get an education and dance in your spare time."

Arya clenched her fist around her fork, and she saw Robb tense. Despite not being as close to Robb as she was with Jon, she still loved Robb and she knew how protective he was over her. So she was happy that the Baratheons weren't bothering just her tonight. Besides, it was very well known in the Stark family (And talked about in the newspapers, as well) how much pride Arya had in her dancing "I'm still taking regular courses during the school year, actually," she informed Cersei. "But I've decided to take a few summer courses in between so I can keep myself busy. And I think dancing is my first priority anyways. There's only so much I can do with knowing the difference between the mitochondria and the nucleus. I prefer dance. I'm more of an action girl."

Cersei's gaze turned hard and she sniffed once before straightening in her chair. "I bet," she commented softly. Arya got the impression that she was being sized up. "Well, I know you're very talented. So congratulations."

Arya smiled her best fake smile in return and took another bite of her pasta so she could take the time to think of what she could say without getting into trouble. "And what about your kids?" she asked, looking at each Baratheon child in turn. "What are you all studying now?"

"Well,  _I'm_  learning to prepare myself for a career in politics," Joffrey said proudly, even though everybody and their mother knew this information already. He was even stupider than Arya originally thought if he thought that could get a reaction out of any of them.

Myrcella, who was about to go into her first of college, told Arya she was going to be studying psychology, while Tommen, about to be a senior, was still taking mandatory high school courses.

Once again, Arya slowly faded out of the conversation after Cersei's attempt at a jab at her. She preferred it that way anyway. She could listen to everyone else's conversations around her.

Right now, Joffrey and Sansa seemed to be having a particularly interesting one right now.

"My father is trying his best to prepare me for this new career but I'm not even sure he knows what he's doing sometimes," Joffrey was saying. "I definitely think I'll manage just fine on my own."

 _Arrogant little shit_ , Arya thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you're right," Sansa gushed. "You're already practically a professional!"

Joffrey's answering smile was faker than Arya's, and she had the urge to gag again.

"I say we clear up for dessert now, shall we?" Catelyn announced. She was already rising up from her chair to take everyone's plates.

Arya and Sansa got up to help as well and Cersei herself stood, much to everyone's shock. She pretended not to notice and carried plates and silverware from the dining room to the kitchen.

Arya was bringing a stack of serving plates to the kitchen when she heard Cersei and Cat talking quietly in the kitchen about Sansa and Joffrey.

"I just can't believe Joff is going to do it tonight," Cersei was saying. For the first time since she had walked into the house, Arya noticed, she was showing emotion. And she was positively giddy with excitement.

"Are you sure tonight is the night?" Cat replied with the same amount of excitement in her voice.

"Absolutely. I went with him when he was going ring shopping. Said he needed his mother's opinion, bless his soul. He never told me when he was planning on proposing, but I saw him slip the ring box in his pocket before we left."

Arya felt like she really was going to throw up this time. She had definitely heard enough. She banged through the kitchen door, announcing her arrival quite loudly as she dropped the dishes in the sink carefully.

"Must you be so forceful and loud, Arya?" Cat sighed exasperatedly.

Offering up a quick apology, Arya dashed out of the kitchen and escaped to the bathroom. She collapsed on the edge of the bathtub, putting her head in her hands and breathing heavily. She was about to start hyperventilating if she didn't get a grip on herself soon. Arya paced the bathroom in her uncomfortable heels, thinking of what would happen when Joffrey proposed tonight.

She and Sansa had been talking about it earlier today! She had mocked her for the fact that Joffrey hadn't popped the question yet! Arya could see the image crystal clear in her mind: Sansa, giggling excitedly as she slipped the ring on her finger and tearing up as she kissed her fiancee. And then she'd look at Arya with a look in her eyes that clearly said  _I told you so!_

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Robb told her they would be having dessert in two minutes. Arya splashed water on her face and took one last deep breath before unlocking the door and walking out rather unsteadily. She tried to right herself before she got back to the dining room. She didn't need anyone telling her off for not knowing how to walk properly in heels.

Dessert was a heated brownie cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, and normally Arya would have devoured it in five seconds but she could barely manage to touch her spoon. She forced a few bites down before setting it down on the table and subtly pushing the small dessert bowl away from her. Only Robb noticed, and he gave her a questioning tilt of his head. Arya shook her own, closing her eyes as she felt a headache coming on.

After dessert had been had, the girls once again cleared the table as the men went to sit in the living room together. Arya was still on edge. When, exactly, did Joffrey plan on proposing to Sansa tonight?

The answer came exactly seven and a half minutes later.

The two families were gathered in the living room together, having their own conversations, when Joffrey cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me," he said clearly. Arya could have sworn her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. "I have something I need to say."

Cersei clasped her hand to her heart. Ned tensed up, gripping the armchair of the seat he was occupying and Arya realized Joffrey had already spoken to him about this before.

Joffrey got up and went over to Sansa, who was talking to Myrcella about things she could do with her hair now that it was getting longer. He took her hand in his and brought her up to stand in front of her. "Sansa. I love you. I have since the first moment I could even understand what that word meant. We've known each other literally our whole lives, and I know how lucky I am to have the privilege of saying that. We've been together for seven years and they've been the happiest seven of my entire life. But I know that there's only one way to make me even happier." He took out the small black velvet box from his pants pocket and bent down on one knee, opening it to reveal a large sparkling diamond ring. Sansa let out a small sound from the back of her throat, her eyes welling up with tears. She covered her mouth with one hand as Joffrey took the other to place the ring on her finger. "Say you'll marry me, Sansa Stark. Say you'll marry me and be known as Sansa Baratheon, and make me the happiest man on the face of the planet."

A sick, twisted part of Arya was begging Sansa to say no, to throw the ring in his face and tell him to get out of here, but Arya knew that Joffrey had Sansa fooled. And she knew it would never happen.

"Yes!" Sansa cried, a smile practically breaking her face in half. "Yes, I'll marry you!"

As Joffrey slipped the ring onto her older sister's finger, Arya felt her eyes close, her heart stop, and her entire body to paralyze. She knew it was going to happen the moment she overheard Cersei talking about it, but she was still more disappointed than she'd ever imagined she could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Gendry will be showing up in the next chapter! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and you come back for more when I update the second one! I'd be really happy if you left a comment, bookmarked it, or left a kudos.
> 
> A lot of this chapter was written while listening to the Cinderella trailer music for the 2015 movie, and the featured Spotify playlist, Teen Party.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. A Stupid Bull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter! And here's Gendry for the first time, making his grand appearance :) Like before, if you'd like to see the inspiration for this chapter, check out the bottom of the chapter.

"Insane!" Arya shouted as she paced back and forth in front of Jon who was sitting on her bed. "She's gone in-fucking-sane! She can't really be thinking of marrying him. He's a foul, nasty, evil little shit who's just arrogant and cocky and rude and everything that Sansa isn't! She's insane, she's finally lost it!"

Jon watched her go back and forth, following her movements with his eyes. "I think it's you that's finally lost it."

Arya pretended not to hear him, trampling over his words with her own. "I hate him," she continued. "I fucking hate him and his whole family."

"She's your sister," Jon reminded her reasonably. "You should be happy for her."

"Not with him!" Arya yelled. "Never with him! Joffrey fucking Baratheon can go fuck himself for all I care. She's mental if she actually wants to marry him. And Dad said yes! You should have seen the way he looked when Joffrey was about to ask. He looked like he wanted to strangle him but he told him yes! How could he do that to Sansa? To our whole family?"

Jon stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "You need to relax. Okay? Breathe. You're going to be fine. Sansa will be fine. I know Joffrey's awful, but Sansa loves him. And he must treat her pretty well if she's stayed with him for seven years and then said yes when he proposed.

Arya shook her head, feeling another headache creep its way into her brain. "I can't do this," she said, pressing her fists to her temples. "She's going to be so unhappy with him, I know it. I can't let her marry him, Jon, we can't let her marry him."

"Sansa is a big girl. She's twenty-two. She's an adult. More of an adult than you are, since she's older. She will be fine, and so will you, and me, and our whole family. Okay? I promise. Joffrey wouldn't do anything with his father around, anyway. Even someone as stupid and pathetic as him knows better than to threaten the friendship of Ned and Robert."

Arya ran her hand shakily through her hair and turned to her closet, taking out a pair of pajamas. Shooing Jon out, she told him she'd talk to him tomorrow but her headache was causing her to become more tired by the minute. She changed out of her dress and put on the pajama set, crawling into bed and curling up underneath the blankets.

Her sister, a Baratheon. Arya shuddered at the thought. Sansa Stark-Baratheon. It didn't  _fit_. It just didn't.

Arya fell asleep that night with a huge migraine and a gnawing worry in the back of her mind about what her sister's life would be like with Joffrey Baratheon.

. . .

Arya awoke the next morning to bright sunshine and birds chirping.  _It's Manhattan_ , she thought grumpily as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to shield them from the sun.  _How is it so goddamn cheerful right now?_

She walked downstairs to find Sansa's best friend, Margaery Tyrell, sitting with Sansa at the island in the middle of their kitchen. She was admiring the ring.

"Ugh, I'm so jealous!" Margaery was saying. "I need a Joffrey."

Biting her tongue, Arya moved into the kitchen to grab a bowl and a box of cereal. She kept her ears open to listen to the conversation even though she hadn't even bothered to say good morning.

"Yes, Joffrey definitely went out of his way with this. I can't say that I mind, though!" Sansa exclaimed before laughing.

As Sansa and Margaery collapsed into giggles, Arya ate her breakfast sullenly. She was so lost in thought that she hadn't even managed to hear Sansa repeating her name over and over again. Arya jumped at the sight of Sansa's hand waving in her face as she tried to get her attention. It was her left hand and Arya caught sight of the diamond sparkling when it hit the light at the right angle.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What were you saying?" she asked distractedly.

"I was asking if you would be my maid of honor. I know it's kind of set and done, since you're my sister, but, well. . ." Sansa almost looked shy.

Arya softened almost immediately. Sansa was still Sansa, no matter what kind of monster she married. She forced a weak smile on her lips and nodded stiffly. "Of course I'll be your maid of honor, Sansa."

Sansa's smile was a relieved one, and she turned back to Margaery. "And of course you'll be one of my bridesmaids." She let out a small laugh again. "I can't wait to start planning the wedding, really. There's so much to do, and we don't even know what season it will be in, let alone know a possible date!"

Arya slipped away from Margaery and Sansa, walking back up to her room to get ready for the day. She didn't have any classes today, thankfully. Those were only three times a week. But she wanted to go to the bookstore today.

Just as she was slipping on a pair of flip flops, there was a knock on her door.

"Come in!" she called. The door opened and Jon walked in, running his hands through his curly black hair. He had bags under his eyes and his entire face seemed to be falling in on itself. She could tell he hadn't slept well.

"How are you?" he asked cautiously.

Arya shrugged. "Well, I'm over my freak-out from last night. Sansa's asked me to be her maid of honor. I said yes. She's excited to start planning the wedding, as expected. I guess it's really going to happen, and I'll just have to accept it."

Jon nodded and gestured to her outfit that she was still putting together. "Where are you going today?" he asked her curiously. "I thought you have class in two days?"

"Bookstore," she responded. As she walked past him, she gave him a quick pat on the back. "See you later!"

When Arya stepped out of the front door of her house, she took one last deep breath before going down the short hallway to the private elevator to calm herself.

It turned out to be absolutely necessary, because the moment Arya got out of the elevator into the lobby, she was surrounded.

It seemed that the paparazzi had heard the news of the engagement of Joffrey Baratheon and Sansa Stark, and they were desperate to hear every single word the younger sister of the bride to be had to say about it.

Arya resisted the urge to shout out to the journalists and gossip columnists that if they wanted to talk about the wedding, than they should ask the bride. But she had way too many close calls with the media. Restraint was not one of her traits, so she usually ended up flipping someone off, or cursing them out.

Her mother was never really amused by it.

Arya forced her way out of the lobby and broke free onto the sidewalk of Manhattan without saying one word. She cast one last glance behind her as she walked down the block to where her car was, seeing the reporters eagerly looking for a sign of a Stark member that was stupid enough to talk to one of them and let their words be twisted around.

She got to her car and unlocked it, sliding inside and shutting the door behind her. She put the keys in the ignition and started it.

And nothing happened.

Arya tried once more, taking the keys out, putting them back in, and turning them. Once again, nothing happened. "Fuck!" Arya yelled, slamming her hands against the wheel.

She pulled her cellphone out of her bag, looking through the contacts list quickly before she realizes two things: One, she doesn't know any mechanics. And two, even worse, she doesn't know anyone personally that knows anything worth knowing about cars to try to help her.

Arya groans and does a quick search on Google through her phone for a good mechanic, and comes across a phone number for a shop called Tobho Mott. Strange name, but all the reviews said that he was the best in the city. She called the number and waited for someone to pick up. When they did, she asked for someone to come fix her car that broken down, gave them the block she was at and what car she was in, and was forced to do even more waiting.

Arya hated waiting.

After about fifteen minutes, there was a tap on her window, and Arya looked up to see who it was.

The man who stood outside her window was tall, with tan skin and inky black hair. And he had the most clear, vivid blue eyes she had ever seen, even more vivid than Sansa's. Arya sat there for a minute, her mouth simply opening and closing for a few seconds before he spoke. "Did you ask for a mechanic?"

Arya snapped out of it. "Oh! Right, um, yeah. Thanks," she got out of the car and stood between the door and the man. She didn't know a single thing about cars, only that she knew which kind she liked. But when he replaced her in the driver's seat and tried to turn the keys in the ignition, she felt compelled to tell him a piece of information that seemed pretty crucial right now. "It's not starting," she said stupidly and almost immediately she felt the internal urge to kick herself in the shin. He knew it wasn't starting, clearly.

Thankfully, he didn't reply to that statement, only got out of the car and handed her the car keys. "I'm going to take it into the shop. Maybe the engine's gone and messed itself up. I'm not sure, I'll let you know when I get a closer look at it." He went over to the tow truck he had drove in on and attached the car to the back.

"How long will it be there?" Arya asked nervously. If she had to go more than a week without her car. . . .

"No more than a few days, promise. It can't possibly be  _that_  bad, I don't think. It looks like you keep it in pretty well condition." He opened the door to the tow truck and looked around the hood at her. "Are you getting in?" he asked as if it was an obvious decision. Arya nearly blanched. Why would she get in the car? "Don't you want to know what's wrong?" he asked her with a weird look on his face. He must think her  _really_  stupid at this point. "I can let you know today, at least. Or I could just give you the address of the shop and you can come down whenever you want."

Arya shook her head. "No, I want to know what's wrong now." Not her best move, getting into a truck with a stranger, but he was fixing her car. He couldn't be about to kill her, could he?

Before Arya could open the door, he reached across the passenger seat and swung it open for. Arya muttered a quick thanks and climbed into the car.

"My name is Arya, by the way," Arya offered, trying to make some conversation. She felt out of place, touchy, and weary of her surroundings in this truck. It was normal, she supposed, since she just got in a car with a random stranger. "Arya Stark," she continued on when that got no response out of him. If he hadn't been driving, she would have offered her hand.

The man's eyes flickered over to hers, and she knew he recognized her last name. How could he not, it was plastered on every surface of this city. "Gendry Waters, pleasure to meet you," he said roughly without taking his eyes off the road ahead of him.

_He's clearly not one for conversation_ , Arya thought to herself as she settled back in her seat.

They arrived at the mechanic shop not long after that, and Gendry was opening the door before the truck had even completely stopped inside the garage. Once again, he opened Arya's door from her, but she didn't get to say thank you because he was already gone, off to detach her car from the back of the tow truck and see what had gone wrong with it.

"Wait here," he told her absentmindedly. Gendry went to bring the tow truck out to the front of the shop so he had room to work in the garage and Arya was left to find a place to sit before he got back. She settled on a stool, and examined her bare nails to wait for him.

"Who are you?"

Arya looked up to find a rather heavyset boy standing in front of her, looking at her very curiously.

"That's Arya Stark," Gendry announced as he came back into the garage with an armful of various metal objects that Arya assumed were for her car. He set them carefully on a large rag that was spread over the floor and straightened. "Arya, this is Hot Pie."

Hot Pie looked between Gendry and Arya. "What's she doing here?" he asked.

Gendry looked at him as if he was stupid. "Because she needs her car fixed," he said obviously. Gendry popped the hood of Arya's car and completely ignored the other three people in the garage. Arya felt self-conscious under the eyes of Hot Pie, who had clearly recognized her last name as well and was currently studying her very intently. Arya felt like some piece of art on display at a gallery showing.

"So," Gendry said after a few minutes of silence only occasionally broken when he started looking through her car. "Your battery's basically shot. You're going to need a new one, and I can give you the repair it needs now, but it'll take half an hour, minimum. The longest it should take is an hour, but no longer than that. Can you wait for that?" he asked her.

Arya couldn't help but feel like his tone suggested he was challenging her. She nodded, tilting her chin just a bit higher.

Gendry gave no indication that her answer affected him. "You can wait here and watch or just come back when the hour's up to see how we're doing here. Doesn't really matter either way."

Arya preferred to stay on her stool where she could monitor the things he was doing to her car. She may not know a single thing about them and she'd definitely be confused during this hour and a half, but she decided to stay for lack of better things to do. Where could she go without a goddamn car, anyway?

There was a few more minutes of silence before Gendry suddenly looked up from his work and sighed exasperatedly. "Hot Pie, what do you want?" he asked irritably, his blue eyes wandering towards the boy who still stood in the doorway of the garage.

Hot Pie shrugged his shoulders. "Bored," he said simply.

Arya had a feeling this wasn't the first time Hot Pie had interrupted Gendry's work due to simple boredom.

"Well, find something to do, then," Gendry said. "I'm working, and you know I don't mind you coming here whenever you want, but don't just stand there staring at nothing." He gave a quick glance to Arya. "You're probably creeping her out," he added.

Hot Pie looked at Arya with raised eyebrows and Arya shrugged. "I don't really care," she admitted.

"Well, I do," Gendry grunted as he continued working on her car. And so they continued to sit in silence, Gendry tinkering away at Arya's car and doing things to it that she was sure she didn't want to know.

Like he said, it took about half an hour and when he announced that her car was good as new once again, Arya sighed in relief and went to her beloved car. She turned the keys in the ignition and closed her eyes as she smiled when she heard the familiar sound of the engine revving up. She looked out the window and smiled at Gendry. "Thanks," she said, reaching for her bag and pulling out her wallet. "How much?"

After announcing the price, Arya counted the bills in her wallet and cursed. "Shit," she muttered. "I'm twenty short. I can go to an ATM and get the rest now," she offered.

Gendry shrugged as if it didn't make a difference to him whether or not she payed. "You better not run out on me after I just replaced your battery. I do know your family after all, Arya Stark."

Arya rolled her eyes and handed him the money she did have before starting up her car again. "I'll be back soon," she promised as she drove off to the nearest ATM. She ran her hand through her long dark hair as she drove, thinking about exactly how she had ended up in a stranger's mechanic shop.

Sansa's engagement to Joffrey. Sansa asking Arya to be her maid of honor. Fighting through the mass of reporters and journalists desperate to get a word out of the younger sister's lips. Going out to her car and trying to start it multiple times before giving up when it only managed a pathetic groan that seemed to be yelling at Arya to stop abusing it. And now here she was, driving off to an ATM so she could pay off a mechanic who seemed to be quite rude, surly, and sarcastic to everyone who spoke to him, no matter if it was a friend of his or a customer who needed his help.

After getting the money from the ATM, Arya stuffed some extra cash in her wallet and drove back to the garage. She pulled up outside and walked to the back through the front door. Hot Pie was gone at this point, and only Gendry remained in the dirty garage, reorganizing a pile of car parts.

"Here," Arya said to announce her reappearance into the shop. She handed the money over to Gendry, who folded it up neatly and tucked it into a small Ziploc bag that had a few other folded bills in there.

"Congratulations," Gendry said without looking at her, his eyes fixed on the parts in front of him.

Arya was taken aback. "What?" she asked confusedly.

Gendry jutted his chin to a newspaper sitting on the stool Arya had previously been sitting on before she'd gone off to get the remaining money. A picture of Sansa and Joffrey was plastered on the front page with the headline in big bold letters:  _STARK AND BARATHEON, FINALLY PLANNING TO TIE THE KNOT_.

Arya felt a bitter twist in her lower stomach and she felt her headache coming back to invade her mind ruthlessly. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the door of the garage and bit her lip. "Thanks," she said quietly. She resisted the urge to take the newspaper and read what they had printed about her sister and her future brother-in-law, but it took a lot of effort. What lies had they written about the couple? Joffrey was a supporting and loving boyfriend and Sansa was a doting girlfriend whose only wish was to spend the rest of her life with him? Only the last part was true.

"You don't seem too happy about the engagement," Gendry remarked casually, and Arya wanted to hit him for commenting on her family's personal life. Though, it was hardly personal. The newspapers and magazines were always printing stories upon stories about the lives of each Stark, among other notable families dotted around Manhattan.

"How would you know what my happy face looks like?" Arya shot back crossly, tightening her arms stubbornly.

Gendry snorted. "I don't. But I  _do_  know what your less-than-pleased face is. It's the only face you seem to show in any of those pictures." As if he was just dying to prove his point, he snatched the newspaper off the stool and began to read aloud in an exaggerated voice. "' _Arya Stark, nineteen years of age and younger sister to the bride to be, twenty-two year old Sansa Stark, has yet to make a public statement about this engagement. She has always stayed away from the media, but one might expect the normally sullen-looking girl to crack a smile at the news of her sister's happy future union with someone so close to her family.'_ "

He tossed the paper over to her and Arya caught it but didn't look down at it. But Gendry's smug smile tempted her to sneak a peek. "There's a picture and everything, as if there aren't enough of them in the world."

Arya scoffed, wanting to throw the paper in his cocky face. "Who the hell are you to comment on me and my life, or my family's, when all you know is information fed to you by journalists and greedy gossip columnists looking to earn an easy buck?"

Gendry didn't lose his smile. In fact, it only grew wider with each word she spoke. "Well, it can't all be lies, can it? They always say you're constantly making a scene in front of the cameras when they get you in front of them. Swearing and yelling at them, flipping them off, giving off sarcastic comments to everyone who asks you a question."

Arya rolled her eyes. "You try living a day with a tape recorder shoved under your nose for a day and see if you like it."

Gendry laughs, and Arya realizes it's the first time she's heard the sound.

She's even more surprised to learn that she likes the sound very much.

Gendry stands up and walks over to a marble notebook, ripping off a small square of paper from the edge of a sheet. He scrawled something on it and folded it up, passing it on to her.

Arya unfolded it curiously, looking at a series of numbers. "What's this for?" she asked, though she had a feeling. And if it was really was his number, how bipolar was Gendry Waters? He went from barely saying a word to her to passing on his number after basically insulting her right in front of her face. And he didn't even seem the least bit ashamed about any of it.

"It's my number."

"Why?"

"Because you're funny, and I could use a laugh once in a while."  _You don't say_ , Arya thought rudely. "Any time you have a comment you want to throw at a reporter, I suggest you just send it to me instead. It's a lot safer than yelling it at some reporter who's just trying to do their job." He was looking at her with mirth and laughter dancing in his bright blue eyes, a smile curling up the edges of his lips.

Arya had to fight rather brutally with herself to keep from smiling back at him. "Has anybody ever told you that you've got a serious case of mood swings?" she asked him. "You're like a bull, honestly. Always changing your mind."

Gendry snorted. "That's a pathetic comparison."

"Don't be rude," Arya told him, even though she was acting rather hypocritical. She  _had_  just called him a bull. But he was being stupid. A stupid bull, one who she wasn't sure if she liked or not.

"You're the one who just compared me to an animal, and you're telling  _me_  that  _I'm_  rude?" Gendry asked incredulously, though he didn't sound mad at all. He was amused by her, she realized.

Instead of responding to him, Arya turned on her heel and walked out of the garage, passing through the front of the shop and breezing out the door. She heard Gendry following her, but didn't turn to face him until she was in front of her car again.

"Are you going to follow me home now?" she asked him.

"No. But I do want to know if you're planning on saving my number in your phone."

Arya let out an unladylike sound and rolled her eyes. "You should be so lucky," she said sweetly before opening her door and climbing in the car.

"I hope so!" Gendry called out after her as she drove off.

Arya only managed to stick her hand out the window and give him a wave as she disappeared further down the road.

. . .

Arya stared at the screen of her phone in front of her, her thumbs poised over the small keypad and her heart beating furiously in her chest. Should she do it? Should she take a chance and text him? What if the number had been a fake?

_Only one way to find out_ , a small voice told her in the back of her head.

Arya wanted to tell that voice to shut the fuck up. She took a deep breath and typed out a quick message before pressing send with her eyes closed, praying that it hadn't been a fake and that he would respond.

In a few short moments, her phone beeped in her hand and Arya's eyes snapped open, opening her phone and seeing she had a response from the number Gendry had given her.

_Gendry: And here I thought you had ripped up my number and threw it in the trash._

_Arya: Changed my mind. I do that a lot. Something we have in common._

_Gendry: Apparently. Run into any reporters lately?_

Arya told him the truth, that she hadn't, and Gendry responded that he was already bored with her then. Arya replied with a few choice words and when Gendry replied, she had a feeling that he was laughing his head off as he typed out his texts to her.

She decided to ignore him after that, her patience already fizzing out. He texted her once after that, and when she hadn't responded within five minutes, her phone beeped one more time before falling silent.

Arya's fingers twitched, itching to check what he had sent her after she hadn't replied to him, and her hand went for the phone against her mind's will. They typed out her password in and unlocked the phone, going to her messages, and clicking on Gendry's name. And Arya felt a crushing disappointment when all he had written was her name with a question mark, and then another text with just the words ' _ok then_ ' staring at her.

She wanted to reply back to him but her pride told her not to give him the satisfaction.

Arya ended up sleeping that night with her phone stuffed under her pillow and her hands firmly at her sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter was written to Spotify's featured playlist: Smart Is The New Sexy, and all of Halsey's songs on Spotify. Don't forget to leave a review, kudos, or bookmark if you so wish! See you next time!


	3. So Long, Farewell!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the previous two, but I hope you still like it! Review if you'd like, I love any constructive criticism I can get, or any compliments.

A week after Sansa and Joffrey had gotten engaged, Ned and Cat announced that they would be spending the next month in their home that resided in the Hamptons as a way to spend the middle of the summer in peace.

Sansa protested immediately, something that shocked everyone. Sansa  _loved_  the Hamptons, more than even Arya did. Arya herself loved the solidarity their private home provided her. She wasn't forced to go anywhere she didn't want or perform ladylike duties. She could just  _be_. But Sansa looked forward to spending the summer in the Hamptons every single year, as it was their family tradition. She sometimes disappeared there at random points during the rest of the year for a relaxing vacation, but the summer was a time for the Starks to spend time together completely. And now Sansa was taking her favorite of the many Stark traditions and throwing it back in her parents' faces.

"I can't go to the Hamptons this summer, I have a wedding  _and_  an engagement party to plan!" she complained.

Arya was already packing. She was excited to go back to the Hamptons. She looked forward to it every year, as well. She was trying to block out the sounds of her parents trying to convince Sansa to come along with them as she folded various bathing suits into her suitcase, when a shrill beep from her phone sounded across the room from her bed. Arya took her phone from her bed and opened it to see who had texted her. And the moment she saw the name printed there on her screen in bold black letters, she felt her heart skip a beat.

Gendry fucking Waters. They hadn't texted each other after that first night, when Arya had ignored him after he made a comment to her about already being bored with her and he had only responded with ' _okay, then_ '. She hadn't texted him again after that, and he hadn't made any effort to reach out to her. Until now. She had begun to hope that he had forgotten about her.

Panicking, Arya threw her phone down on her bed, knowing that if she never opened the message, Gendry would see the status as  _Delievered_ only, instead of  _Read_. If she looked at it later, though, she could tell him she had been too busy to look at her phone and received his message to respond at the appropriate time. Walking back to her closet, Arya pulled out two pairs of matching wedged sandals in two different colors. They had been her seventeenth birthday gift from Sansa, and she had to admit they were very cute. Arya put them in her suitcase before taking a break and walking downstairs to see how Sansa's fight was holding up.

Apparently, her parents and her older sister had reached an agreement: Sansa would only be staying for the first half of July, and she would be returning to Manhattan earlier so she could finish planning her engagement party that would be set in early August.

Sansa still seemed very cross about the whole situation, and Arya already knew she was under enough stress so she decided to keep any comments she had to herself. Comments involving advice along the lines of avoiding the whole wedding stress by dumping Joffrey's ass on the curb.

"Are you at least excited to go back to the Hamptons, Arya?" Ned asked her, looking rather exhausted. He definitely needed the vacation as much as everyone else.

"Of course I am," Arya said. "I love going to the Hamptons. I look forward to it every year."

"That's my girl." Ned smiled at his youngest daughter and ruffled her hair before walking into his office.

. . .

"Arya Stark," Gendry announced when he saw Arya walking into the garage. "Nice to know you haven't forgotten about me and finally deemed me worthy enough to grace me with your presence." Once again, laughter was sprouting in his voice, but there was some steely edge to it and no matter how many smirks Gendry wore, the edge cut through his tone like a sharp knife.

Arya, however, chose to ignore his supposed hurt and sat down on the same stool she had occupied a week ago. "Don't sound stupid like that. I've been busy. And I finally had some free time on my hands so I wondered why I haven't gone down to see my good friend Gendry?" Her own voice was laced with sarcasm and Gendry, too, ignored it.

"I'm honored that you think of me as one of your good friends," Gendry said.

She sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall on her stool, crossing her legs and jiggling her ankle rapidly. "I'm leaving," she said suddenly. Gendry looked up at her when she started speaking. "To the Hamptons. For July. So I won't be around. In case you decided to text me again."

Gendry raised his eyebrows and waited to see if she was done, because it looked like there was a lot more she'd like to say. But Arya seemed to know when to hold her tongue at certain points, because she closed her mouth and looked down at the dirty floor of the garage as she waited for Gendry to respond. In the back of her mind, she had the distant thought that her mother would probably faint if she saw the state this shop was in, and immediately get to work on scrubbing every surface raw until it sparkled and gleamed. Thinking about Cat helped distract Arya from where she was in and how she was making a rather insignificant conversation in her life seem like one of her problems that would dominate her life.

"I hope you have a good time," Gendry said simply.

Arya wanted to lash out at him then. She had already told him once before, but he had the worst mood swings ever.  _And boys were always complaining about how girls on their periods were a handful_ , Arya thought spitefully.  _Let them spend an hour with Gendry fucking Waters!_  She forced a tight smile onto her lips. "I will," she said with false happiness seeping through her tone.

"When will you be back?" he asked.

"August 1st. Sansa's engagement part is a week after that."

"Don't yell at any reporters while you're away."

"Don't be a stupid bull while I'm not here."

Gendry stood up from the bench he had been sitting on and stretched. "Shouldn't you be getting back, then?"

Arya shook her head. "I'm not leaving for another three days."

He wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. "Then why are you telling me you're leaving now?"

She shrugged. "You sent me a text, and I thought it would be a good excuse to come down here and bother you."

"Well, if that had been your only goal, I think it's safe to say you've succeeded."

Arya scoffed. Apparently, Gendry had gone back to being insufferable. He smiled teasingly at her and rolled his eyes at her. "But really," he said seriously. "I hope you have a good trip."

She returned his smile a little reluctantly. She still hadn't formed a proper opinion on Gendry, if she was being honest, and the scale always seemed to be caught dangling precariously between the sides of good and bad. "Yeah, so do I."

. . .

Arya opened the front door and had to stifle her groan. She shouldn't have opened it, or at least looked through the peephole to mentally prepare herself for the person standing on her doorstep currently. "Sansa's not here right now," Arya said as a greeting. She moved to close the door in Joffrey's face, but he reached out quickly and caught it in his hand, stopping it a few inches from his face.

"Where is she?" he asked. Arya bit back her comment about him not controlling her sister's every move. When she didn't answer, Joffrey asked again. "She's my fiancee, I have a right to know where she is."

"I think she's at work."

"Why is she still working with Margaery Tyrell?"

"I don't know."

"She doesn't belong there."

"She's happy there."

"If Sansa wants to be a journalist, she could just as easily get a job at one of my Uncle Jaime's magazines. Or my grandfather. There's no need for her to work at  _Ivy_  or  _Weeds_ or whatever Margaery calls it."

"It's  _Envy_."

"I don't care."

"Sansa cares. It is her job, after all. And she can decide where she wants to work. She's a big girl."

Joffrey pushed the door fully open, making Arya stumble back a little bit.

As he walked through the first floor of Winterfell Estate, Arya kept her eyes trained on him. His back was to her so she could inspect her future brother in law as much as she wished, as thoroughly as she wanted. He was described by many as handsome, but Arya didn't see it. He had pale blond hair, like his mother Cersei and her twin brother Jaime, which he covered in bottles upon bottles of hair gel. And he had a rather pointy and pale face. Arya had no idea what Sansa had seen in Joffrey at fifteen because he was even worse than, if Arya remembered correctly. He had just been discovering that girls seemed to want to be with him, and even if it was only for his money, he abused that power shamelessly. How did Sansa ever fall in love with him?

Arya and Jon had spent months trying to talk Sansa out of dating him, having grown up with him their whole lives and knowing first-hand how much of a little shit he was.

But Sansa had always been enamored by the oldest Baratheon child, so when Joffrey asked Sansa out on a date one day, she was just too eager to leap willingly into his hands.

Needless to say, Arya had been quite disgusted with her sister for a time, and there was a large part of her that still was.

"Is there anything you want, Joffrey?" Arya asked tiredly, too short of her already-limited patience to bother trying to fake politeness. She wanted him out of her house now, and she'd do anything to get it done.

"I'm looking for Sansa," Joffrey repeated once more.

"Well," Arya said slowly as she walked to the kitchen to get herself a granola bar. "I've already told you she's not here. So there's no reason for you to stick around, now, is there? So if you could just do me a favor and. . . ." Arya let her sentence trail off as she not-so-subtly inclined her chin to the front door he had just shoved himself through without an invitation.

Joffrey took a step closer to her, eyes narrowing. "You know, I'm going to be your brother-in-law soon enough. No matter what you say after our wedding, Sansa will always choose me."

Arya snorted, a very unladylike sound that she was pleased to see irritated Joffrey, if the slight tightening of his eyes was any indication. "Please. Starks always put their family before anything else."

Joffrey smiled, a twisted and sickening curl of his thin and pale lips. The sight sent a bitterly cold shiver down Arya's back even though it was still the beginning of July. "Well, then, I guess it's a good thing she's going to be a Baratheon soon enough, right, Arya?" Arya fought the urge to kick him in the shin, or slap him across the face, or give him a good insult that everybody knew he deserved. But before she could move a muscle, let alone think of a bad enough word to describe him, Joffrey was on his way to the front door, his confident swagger making Arya want to knock him down. "I'll be seeing you, I suppose."

Arya slammed the door closed on him before he was barely out the door. She turned away from the door so fast you'd think it had offended her, crossing her arms in anger and frustration and sighing heavily as she felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her all of a sudden. She still had to finish packing for the Hamptons. They'd be leaving in two days, and Arya hadn't even finished packing yet. Sansa would have a heart attack if she heard it. And for the first time, Arya felt a sense of dread at going to the Hamptons for the summer.

. . .

The Hamptons had always had a certain charm to it, especially the area where Arya spent her summers. The Stark's estate was set in a remote and private neighborhood that was gated off from the rest of the community, and if you didn't live there, you had to speak to someone in a little box through an intercom to get through to the person you were visiting. It was all very secure and safe, and Arya loved it here.

She dropped her suitcase and bag on her bed and looked around. Her room was exactly as she had remembered from last summer: White walls with gold, glittery swirls painted on, bookshelves lining the walls, a large closet next to the big bed, and two dressers with a desk and a vanity mirror.

The room had been redecorated by Cat three years ago, but Arya had to admit that even though she had no use for such a big closet or a vanity, she loved her room.

Arya quickly changed out of her shorts and tank top and switched it for a black short-sleeved top with gray shorts that had suspenders attached to it. She slipped on a pair of black knee-high socks and black flats. Eager to get back to the Hamptons, Arya dashed down the stairs of the Stark's mansion, calling out a quick goodbye right before she disappeared down the stairs.

She got in her car and drove out of the small community, waving goodbye to the worker sitting in the box as she exited the gate. She opened her windows and let the soft summer breeze drift through her hair as she drove.

The outlet malls had always been her favorite place to go. Arya was never a fan of shopping, but she loved going to these malls. They had cute little food shops that only had three tables that seated two, and vintage clothing stores that Arya found herself drawn to every time she went inside. She parked her car in the large parking lot and slung her bag over her shoulder as she walked out to explore all the new places that had been added while she'd been gone. A few stores remained, and thankfully many of them were Arya's personal favorites. She went to those first, sampling delicious chocolate truffles and buying a few vintage clothing items so Sansa couldn't complain about her wardrobe and its lack of variety and style.

As she was walking down the street to see other stores, she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" The girl said. Arya was struck silent by the girl's beauty. She wasn't exactly tall, but the four-inch wedges that she currently had on her feet definitely added some height to her. Her long whitish blond hair was pulled back into a braid crown so it didn't blow into her face from the wind. And she was wearing a gorgeous silk colorfully striped maxi dress that tied around her neck with a bright gold necklace glinting in the sunlight. Arya was absolutely stunned. She was absolutely beautiful, the kind that stopped people in their tracks, the kind that people like Sansa and Margaery possessed.

Arya still hadn't responded, so when the girl apologized once again, she blushed. "Oh, no it's my fault. I wasn't looking."

"Neither was I." She had a bit of an accent tingeing her voice, but Arya couldn't place it because it was so faint.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Arya asked, hesitantly eyeing the wedges peeking out from the hem of her dress. They looked seriously dangerous, and if Arya had been wearing them, she'd have sprained her ankle by herself without anyone bumping into her.

"Oh, no, of course not. What about you? Are you alright?"

Arya nodded, smiling slightly at how genuine this girl sounded.

"Dany!" A male voice interrupted them, and a man who looked somewhat similar to the girl appeared at their side. He looked Arya up and down with sudden interest and Arya felt her cheeks heating up.

"My name is Daenerys Targaryen, but people normally call me Dany," the girl said, extending her hand for Arya to shake. She did.

"Arya Stark, pleased to meet you," Arya said.

The man stiffened slightly, but Dany and Arya pretended not to notice. Instead, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Arya, this is my nephew, Aegon."

Aegon, recovering quite quickly from the tension that had apparently been taking over his body, took Arya's hand and instead of shaking it, kissed it lightly. Arya blushed while Dany rolled her eyes. "Aegon Targaryen, pleasure to make your acquaintance."


	4. In A Dragon's Blood

The Hamptons used to be a much happier place.

At least, that's the way Arya used to remember it before she had come back this summer. Now all she saw were stress lines in Ned's foreheard, only heard snarky comments from the normally proper and ladylike Sansa.

Arya used to look forward to the vacation to the Hamptons every single year, but now she couldn't help but think this was a Stark tradition that nobody had time for anymore. Her family was growing up and with that, they were growing apart. It was hard to watch, and no matter how much company Arya found during her time here, she'd miss that feeling of coming here every year with a whole family who loved everybody no matter what.

And she had indeed found herself a few people to keep her company: Daenerys Targaryen, Dany for short, and her nephew Aegon Targaryen. Aegon had been born two years before Daenerys herself was, making his aunt younger than him. Arya found it a little strange but chose not to dwell on it for too long. It was nothing special, after all.

And why dwell on things as trivial as that, when Aegon's interest in her was much more important, to Arya at least.

He had seemed to take quite a strong liking to her, and Arya was both flustered and flattered. She had seen boys who had been interested in her before, but they had never been so. . .forward as he was. He was never shy, and Arya found herself liking him for that.

On the dresser next to her bed, Arya's phone vibrated loudly, jumping slightly off the surface. She grabbed it and glanced at the name printed on the screen in front of her, and her heart may or may not have fallen into her stomach.

She had been expecting another one of Aegon's phone calls asking if he wanted to spend some time together today, but it was something even better.

"Gendry Waters, to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden and unexpected phone call," Arya said, letting a smile slip through the words.

"Don't act like you haven't been  _dying_  for the minute I'd call you," he answered, barely missing a beat.

They had been texting throughout the entire vacation so far, and Arya liked updating him on what her family was doing, and he liked updating her about the cars and motorcycles and all kinds of stuff he was fixing in the shop.

"Yes." Arya put on a wistful tone. "I've been so lost without the sound of your sarcastic voice and snarky comments. Oh, how mournful I've been."

She heard him laugh through the tiny speaker, and Arya smiled as a surge of pride washed through her at the sound. Making Gendry was not an easy task, but she managed to do every now and then. She liked making him laugh, knowing that she was the one who was able to break him out of his constant sullen and, at times, bitter moods. They'd grown quite close over the past month, and it was something that Arya enjoyed greatly.

"Okay, Shakespeare," Gendry mocked. "How are the vultures?"

Arya shrugged, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her. "They don't come out to my neighborhood. It's private. I only see one or two reporters around here whenever I go out, and they should know by now I don't do interviews."

For a moment, Gendry was silent and Arya worried he'd hung up on her, or they'd lost connection. If they lost connection, how long would it take to work again? She didn't want to go so long without at least texting Gendry!

But then, he spoke once more. "Sorry, I was getting something to eat. Anyway, when are you supposed to be coming home?"

"We always come home around the last week of July. Sansa's leaving two weeks earlier, though, because she's got the rest of her engagement party to plan. It's on August 1st, so she needs everything to be perfect. She's leaving in two days, so she's packing right now."

"And what about the rest of your family?"

Arya bit back her smile, fearing he'd be able to hear it in her voice. "They're pretty good. Same old family as always."

"Right," Gendry said thoughtfully and Arya could picture him crystal clear in her mind, nodding his head in mockingly. "Just your average family of super-rich socialites who come from one of the longest lines of old family in all of New York, not to mention America."

"Exactly," Arya said in a matter-of-fact kind of voice.

"Well, I hope you get home soon. You should come by the shop to say hi when you get back."

"Of course I will," Arya said as if it was obvious that she would be visiting him in his mechanic's shop the very same minute she got back to Manhattan. But the truth was, she had hoped he wouldn't be expecting a visit from her. She was too nervous.

There was another small pause of silence. "Anyway," Gendry said suddenly, and Arya jumped a little. "I should go. Lots of work to get done."

"Right, of course. I've got to go, too. Plans to get to." Arya hung up the phone quickly, slamming it back down on her dresser with her heart beating fast and her palms sweaty. She hated talking to Gendry on the phone. What if she slipped up and said something stupid. At least if she was texting him, she could proofread her response and make sure she didn't sound so stupid.

She didn't want him to know she was so attracted to him, though it was hard to understand why he hadn't already figured it out, if he really was clueless about it.

Arya picked her phone up again, taking a deep breath and texting Aegon to see if he wanted to hang out now.

It only took him seventeen seconds for him to respond ' _Love to. See you in a few_ '. Arya had counted in her head.

Arya walked down the stairs, pulling a sheer white cardigan over her light blue tank top and white shorts as she went to the kitchen to wait for Aegon to text her that he was ready for her. He seemed to like driving her everywhere they went in his bright blue convertible, and Arya definitely didn't mind. She loved the speed, and the way the wind felt as it whipped her hair everywhere when she put the top down.

Ned, Cat, and Robb were also sitting in the kitchen, looking over a large pile of some kind of documents that had to do with real estate and numbers and a bunch of other stuff that made Arya's head hurt.

"Hey, sweetie," Cat greeted her from her stool by the island placed on the edge of the kitchen. "Where are you going out today?" Arya noted the hint of suspicion laced in her voice, but hose not to say anything about it.

"I'm going to hang out with Aegon and Daenerys Targaryen," Arya said absentmindedly, rummaging through the fridge for something quick to eat before she left. There was a loud slap behind her and she whipped around.

"Fuck!" Ned shouted. He had jumped up from his seat and accidentally sliced his thumb on one of the papers. He ignored Cat's gasp of shock when he yelled. Arya looked over at her father, surprised to see his face set in fury.

"Ned!" Cat admonished.

Robb was looking back and forth between his parents and his youngest sister with confusion written all across his face, silently asking Arya with his eyes what happened. Arya shrugged in response, glancing back at Ned to see why he was so upset.

"You shouldn't be seeing them," Ned told her stiffly.

"Why not?" Arya asked. She felt the familiar sense of frustration at her parents rising up in her.

"Because the Targaryens should not be anywhere near you," Ned said. Cat was simply sitting there, looking lost as she tried to keep her husband from saying something or doing anything he might regret later on.

"But they're nice people. And they're the  _only_ friends I have here, because everybody else is so busy ignoring each other in this house," Arya threw back, and Robb immediately jumped up to tell her to be quiet.

There was a small  _ping!_  from the phone in Arya's pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Aegon telling her that he was outside.

Ignoring her father, she put the phone away and walked out of the door.

"Arya!" Ned yelled after her. "Arya, come back in here right now!"

Cat and Robb were running out after him, but Arya was already down the long walkway that led to their front door and sliding into the seat of Aegon's convertible. She shut the door behind her and simply looked over to him in the driver's seat and said "Drive."

. . .

Arya opened the door to the house and walked in, dropping her bag on the small table inside the foyer. She slipped off her shoes, put her keys down, and went inside the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

The light flicked on the moment she walked in, and Arya jumped at the sight of her father sitting there at the kitchen island.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked her, his voice a quietly dangerous tone.

"I told you," Arya said, brushing past him and taking her water from the fridge. "I was out with Aegon and Dany."

"Even after I told you you were to get back inside the house right away?" he said, following her movements with his eyes.

Arya turned to face him, jumping up on the counter. "Yes. Because there was no valid reason for me to stay inside the house."

"Because I'm your father and you need to respect the decisions I choose."

"Well, I'm your daughter and you need to trust the decisions  _I_  choose."

She hopped off the counter and stalked up the steps, going down the hall to her room. She checked the clock in the hallway before walking inside. 9:32. She had been out for nine hours, and she hadn't called to check in once.

A frustrated shriek caught Arya's attention, coming from Sansa's room that was next to hers. The door was slightly ajar, so Arya pushed it open all the way, stopping in her tracks when the room came into view.

Sansa's room, which was always put together and clean and neat, was now in a state of complete chaos. Clothes had been torn from her closet and thrown on the floor, her hair and makeup products were strewn across her various dressers and vanity. And her shoes weren't with their pairs, instead dotting the entire floor.

"What the hell happened here?" Arya asked Sansa, who was sitting on the floor in front of a large suitcase.

"What the hell do you think?" Sansa bit back viciously, looking up at her sister with wide, nerve-wracked eyes.

"Your closet finally had enough abuse of the stuff you pile in there?" Arya said sarcastically, dropping down on her bed and laying down.

"I'm leaving early," Sansa announced as if Arya hadn't spoken.

Arya shot up, sitting up on the bed suddenly. "What?"

Sansa glanced up at Arya. "Yes. I have to go tomorrow. There's just too much to do. I can't sit here and take a vacation from planning a wedding and an engagement party. I have  _no time_."

Arya wondered silently if Joffrey had called Sansa. She hadn't spoken to him since that creepy and weird visit from him to Winterfell Penthouse, when he gave the suggestion of Sansa quitting her job with  _Envy_  and working for one of the many magazines the Lannister family owned. She had a feeling her and Joffrey had a conversation that involved him manipulating Sansa into coming home a few days early.

"Did he tell you that, or did you decide that for yourself?" Arya asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Sansa glared up at her. "It might have come up in our nightly phone call."

Arya felt like gagging at the mention of their nightly phone calls. She was always kept up at night from the sounds of Sansa's giggly shrieks of laughter and exclaims of "Oh,  _stop it_ , Joffrey, I love you more!" It was even worse here, when their rooms were right next to each other. At least when they were home, their rooms were on opposite sides of the hall.

"If you want to stay here, you can, you know," Arya told her. "You don't have to do  _everything_  he says. You're his fiancee, not his hostage. Stay here or go, leave your job or keep it, marry him or don't."

Sansa's face flamed red. "How did you know about the job?" she asked.

Arya's mouth dropped open. "Did he really tell you to leave your job?" she asked incredulously. She had just dropped that hint so she had an excuse to tell Sansa about the whole conversation.

"He offered me a job at one of Jaime's magazines two days ago, but I didn't want to say anything. But  _how did you know_?" Sansa asked desperately.

"Because he came to Winterfell and basically told me you shouldn't be working for anyone but his family!" Arya yelled out.

Sansa blushed even harder, looking down as her red hair fell like a curtain around her beautiful face. "That had always planned to be a temp job, anyway," she said quietly. "Margaery offered it to me because I needed work."

"Sansa! You're twenty-two and you have amazing potential to be a great journalist at  _Envy_. You won't get to do anything with that if you work with the Lannisters!"

"Shut up, Arya!" Sansa said loudly. "If I want to leave Margaery's magazine, I can. If I want to work with Joffrey's family, I will. It's not your decision." She threw a pair of knee-high black boots with a three-inch heel into the suitcase. "Now leave, so I can get back to packing. His driver is picking me up tomorrow."

Arya was stunned into silence. She hated Joffrey and she hated her stupid sister and right now, she just hated everybody. She swiftly left Sansa's room, slamming the door to her own as she grabbed her headphones and a book.

Settling down on her bed, Arya put her music on the loudest the volume would allow and read until she forgot about her father and his stubbornness and secrecy, Sansa and her awful fiancee, and Aegon and Dany's presence in her lives.

At a quarter to midnight, her music was interrupted as her phone began interrupting, signaling a phone call. She didn't even look at the name before picking up. "Hello?" she said, her attention to her book not straying at all.

"Hey."

Arya immediately shut her book and set it on her nightstand. "What are you calling me for at midnight?"

"It's not midnight yet," Gendry said teasingly, and Arya's lips twitched.

"Shut up," she said. "What do you want?"

"To say goodnight. And to let you know there's an article out about how the youngest Stark girl is desperately sullen over her miserable status as a single girl in Manhattan."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Those bitches," she snorted. "Whatever. I still have two weeks left before I have to face them again, and I am going to take advantage of them as much as I can. It'll be easier with Sansa leaving early anyway," she added bitterly.

"I thought she was leaving in a few days."

"She changed her mind. Or, well, Joffrey changed her mind for her and she decided to go along with it like the good little girl she is." Arya shrugged. "But who cares? At least now I won't have to deal with her constant complaining about the wedding and the parties and all the things she has to do. The wedding should be sometime around next June, and I'm pretty sure she's planning an event for every single month until then."

"Wow," Gendry chuckled. "Your sister really goes all out, doesn't she?"

"You have no idea." Arya glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was a little past midnight. "I should be going to sleep," she said a little hesitantly. "But I'll text you tomorrow."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Arya hung up her phone and put it in its charger. She buried herself under her blankets and tried to close her eyes and sleep despite all the thoughts warring for her attention inside her brain. Sansa, Gendry, the Targaryens, her father. . . . Everything seemed to be so mixed up with each other. A small twinge of guilt pinched Arya's insides for what she said to Sansa earlier, and told herself that she'd try her best to apologize tomorrow before she left.

The next day, Arya stuck herself in her room, listening to the sounds of Sansa and Cat dragging her suitcases down the steps to meet Joffrey's driver, who had just honked the horn of his limo to announce his arrival. Arya tried to get her muscles to move, but thoughts of Joffrey kept her from doing so. How could she apologize for what she'd said when it was all true? Arya did a lot of things, some good and some bad, but she has never and will never apologize for speaking truthfully.

So Sansa left within the hour and Arya didn't tell her she was sorry, and she didn't say goodbye.

She didn't even leave her room.


	5. The Story Of Lyanna Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long chapters are back! I hope everyone likes this one, as there's plenty of background information in this one. The amount of research that I did to complete this chapter as accurately as possible is insane. This chapter was written while I listened to the entire soundtrack of Starkid's Twisted stage production (Happy Ending and A Thousand And One Nights were my favorites for inspiration), so if you want to listen to something while reading, I'd suggest that!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a review, kudos, or bookmark if you so wish! See you next time!

There was a steady pounding in the club, the walls shaking along to the tempo of the upbeat song. Neon red, yellow, purple, and orange lights continued to make rounds around the floor, bathing the dancers in bright colors.

Arya continued to dance, swinging her hair over her shoulder as she grinned at Dany, who was dancing next to her. Aegon was in front of her, with her hands in his as Arya danced with him.

The song seemed to go on forever, but it eventually ended, and with it, Arya's dance with Aegon. Breathing heavily, they made their way through the crowd, pushing them all aside to get to the VIP area complete with a set of lounge couches and a bar. It was cut off from the rest of the club by a set of curtains and a sign with VIP AREA ONLY.

They got in easily, as Aegon and Dany had been here many times before, and Aegon immediately went to the bar to get them all drinks. Dany and Arya went to sit on one of the couches, pushing back their sweaty hair in messy ponytails.

"How do you like the club, so far?" Aegon asked Arya as he appeared behind them with three bottles of beer for them all. He handed them one each and went around to sit on the couch across from them, crossing his ankle over his knee and looking as if he owned the place.

"It's so much fun," Arya said truthfully, glancing through the sheer curtains to see a hazy view of the dance floor.

Arya had continued to hang out with the Targaryens despite the wishes of her father. Ned seemed to realize she wasn't going to stop seeing them unless he gave her a true reason not to, so there seemed to be a grudging permission that allowed Arya to see Aegon and Daenerys whenever she wanted, wherever she wanted. Arya felt a little bad for putting Ned in a hard position, but she thought it was only fair.

"Better than Manhattan's regular old nightclubs?" Aegon asked, leaning forward on his knees so he was close enough to kiss her. He'd been doing that a lot lately, since she had run out of her house from her parents and told him to just drive. She knew he was interested in her, but to Arya, half the fun of the game of interest was the chase, the anticipation of who would break first and make a real move.

"Well. . ." Arya trailed off, gazing out the curtains once more and then back to Aegon, who was staring at her intently, too intently for a simple question about her preference for nightclubs. "I have to say, I like Manhattan's old nightclubs more. There are just so many more over there, and here there aren't very many." She shrugged like it was no big deal, avoiding Aegon's intense gaze.

Daenerys looked between the two of them, playing with the ends of her silvery blonde hair as she watched their conversation. Arya felt slightly intimidated by the girl, aware of how mature she seemed for her age and how charming she always seemed to be. Dany was sweet and probably one of Arya's only friends, but Arya always wondered how she was able to stand watching her nephew shamelessly flirt and pursue one of her friends. During the times they would hang out, Dany would normally sit back and watch the conversation between them unfold, content to stay silent the entire time.

After a while of mindless conversation between the three of them and a few more drinks, Aegon stood and extended his hand to Arya, looking down at her imploringly. She tipped her head up at him, raising her eyebrows in confusion. "Come here. I want to show you something." Arya felt chills run down her spine. She had a feeling that the game of interest was about to come to an end.

Looking to Dany for help, Arya was greatly disappointed to find that Daenerys had found great interest in the hem of her frayed shorts. Without any help to turn to, Arya had no choice but to take Aegon's hand and followed him through the curtains once again to the public club. Arya felt like she was a doll, being dragged around by her hand and led around wherever he pleased even though she had no idea where she was going. He stopped at the bar, leaning against it and turning back to face her without letting go of her hand.

"How's your family?" Aegon asked, trying to catch her eyes with his. Arya raised her eyebrows at him again, silently questioning why he was suddenly so interested in the subject of her family. "I haven't brought it up, but when you came running out of your house the other day, you looked really upset." She hadn't. Arya had barely been affected by her father's disapproval of who she was spending her time with. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," said Aegon, finally letting go of Arya's hand. She immediately flexed her hand and Aegon pretended not to notice. "They're fine," she said shortly.

Aegon nodded slowly, sensing her hesitation to talk to him about something that was too personal for her. "You know, my family owns this club," he announced suddenly. Arya's eyes flickered back to him and she understood why he was so interested in her opinion on it. "Me and Daenerys plan on opening many more in Manhattan." He looked over at her, telling her silently to understand the hidden meaning in his words. When she showed no comprehension, he sighed and rolled his eyes. Arya thought he was being rather dramatic over a simple nightclub. "Me and her plan on going back to Manhattan soon. Reintroduce ourselves, make our grand return to society once again."

Arya had been aware the Targaryens were once very famous within Manhattan's elite social circle, but she had always been too scared to ask for fear that she'd touch upon a sensitive subject. But now that Aegon had opened the door to talk about it, she jumped on the chance to ask all of the questions that had been piling up inside her. "Why have you guys been staying here in the Hamptons the entire time, then?" she asked, lifting herself up on one of the stools and asking the bartender for a drink.

Aegon's eyes darkened. "Maybe you should ask your father about that," he said, bitterness lingering in his tone.

Arya was taken aback. "What does my dad have to do with that?"

Before he could respond, Daenerys appeard at her side suddenly and took Arya's elbow in hers. "Come on. I'm bored here already. Let's bring Arya back home so we can get back."

Arya was eager to get out. She took the drink the bartender had set in front of her and knocked it back in one shot before standing up.

Aegon looked furious at his aunt for interrupting his conversation with Arya but didn't say anything. He just stalked away, back stiff as a board.

"Sorry for him," said Daenerys as they walked out of the club, arm in arm.

"What's wrong with him tonight? He's been off all night."

Dany shrugged, but Arya had a feeling she knew what was bothering him.

"He said you guys were going to be coming back to Manhattan soon," Arya probed.

Dany nodded, not looking at her as they pushed the door open and stepped out onto the street. "We hope to."

Arya brushed her hair back against the breeze. "Why have you guys been hiding out here all this time?" she asked when Dany never continued.

She shrugged. "It's a pretty long story. But I assume that Aegon told you to ask your dad about that when you asked him the same question?"

She nodded a little bashfully, but was unable to continue their conversation as they climbed into Aegon's car. He was already in the driver's seat and Daenerys took the seat next to him, leaving Arya in the back.

"Ready to go?" Aegon asked Arya, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

Arya nodded, settling back in her seat and closing her eyes so she could block out the sounds of Aegon and Daenerys talking in the front seat.

. . .

"Why do you hate the Targaryens so much?"

Ned looked up from the screen of the laptop that was sitting on the desk in his home office. "I don't hate them," he said unconvincingly.

Arya crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying to you," said Ned, but his voice was too rough and his eyes were shifting all across the room, unable to settle on anything for more than a few seconds and purposely avoiding his daughter. "The Targaryens were a family from a long time ago, but they won't be causing us any problems anymore."

"Oh, really?" Arya asked in a mocking tone. "Well, did you know that they were planning on coming back to Manhattan? Aegon told me last night."

Ned abruptly stood up and snapped the lid of his laptop shut. He stalked to the door of the office and for a moment Arya thought he was going to leave her wth unanswered questions. But all he did was close the door and tell her to sit in the seat across from his desk.

Arya remained standing.

"The Targaryens were a very large political family from a long time ago, more than twenty years. And their family had a long line of insanity running through it. They called it the Targaryen madness, and all of them were likely to get it if something set them off. The father of your oh-so-dear friend Daenerys, Aerys, was our governor for a long time. Until his son Rhaegar took my sister and your aunt, Lyanna Stark and kidnapped her from her family, her friends, and Robert Baratheon. It was no secret that Robert loved her, and he would spend his days chasing after her even though she always refused him. When we heard the news that Lyanna had been kidnapped, me, Robert, and my brother Brandon went searching for her everywhere. She was missing for almost a year before we finally found her. But by the time we got to her and tried to convince Rhaegar to let her go, and let Lyanna come back home, she, Brandon, and Rhaegar were all killed in a car crash."

Ned's voice cracked on the very last sentence, his eyes straying up towards the ceiling.

Arya moved to stand next to her father, and saw she had been sitting down without even realizing she had done so. "Dad," Arya said quietly.

Ned held up a hand to silence her before she could go on. "If the Targaryens come back here, Robert will lose it. And believe me when I say they'll make a huge deal of their return to the city."

"What about the rest of the Targaryens?" Arya asked.

"Well, Aerys was voted off as governor by his own council, and Robert took over. It's assumed that he committed suicide, because he was found dead two weeks later in his home by his wife, Rhaella. It was an overdose. When both Rhaegar and Aerys were found dead, Rhaella also killed herself. Rhaegar's wife, Elia Martell, was killed along with her daughter Rhaenys in a home invasion two years later, but her other child, Aegon, clearly was not."

Arya was absolutely horrified. "I didn't know. . ." she started, shaking her head as she tried to find the right words to describe the shame and pity she was feeling. Ned simply shook his head.

"It's alright," he said kindly. "I know you had no idea. We'd tried to keep it from you children for as long as we could. You don't need to know the violent ways your family was cut short."

Arya's hands were shaking as she stood up from the chair across from her father. "I'll talk to Aegon," she said, noticing the way Ned's face pinched slightly. "I'm going to tell him I learned the story. And that I want him to keep himself and Dany from making a scene when they come back to Manhattan."

. . .

"Aegon," Arya said, uncrossing her legs from underneath the table.

"Hello, Arya." Aegon sounded uncomfortably formal as he greeted her, sitting down at the little coffee shop's table across from her.

Arya decided there was no way to go about this other than running straight into it. "I asked my father why he didn't like you and your aunt," she said stiffly, her hands gripping her coffee mug tightly.

"Oh, did you?" asked Aegon. His eyebrows rose up higher on his forehead. "And did he tell you the whole story, or just his version of it? Because I can guarantee you that most of what he told you was all lies."

Arya scoffed, waving her hand in the air as if she could make his words disappear with a swift movement. If only it were that simple. "My father would never lie to me. He's one of the most noble people I've ever met. He would never tell a lie to anyone, especially his own daughter."

Aegon stood up abruptly. "Come back to my house with me," he offered.

Arya raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What?"

"Come back to my house with me."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve to know the whole story of Rhaegar and Lyanna."

Arya counted exactly seven minutes from the moment she got into Aegon's car to him pulling into the driveway of his large mansion.

It was, without a doubt, much bigger than the Stark's vacation home in the Hamptons. It was closed off from everyone, surrounded by a large gate that needed a passcode before it would open. There was a large fountain right in the middle of the circular driveway, and behind it stood a huge estate with four floors that seemed more like a small castle rather than a mansion.

Arya had never been to Aegon's house before, and he'd never been to hers, either. He always picked her up from wherever she was, and the only time he'd ever seen her own house was when she had left her parents and Robb in the kitchen a week ago. Aegon didn't seem to notice her fascination with his home, for he just got out of the car, opened her own door for her, and led her up to the front door.

Dany was sitting on the sofa in the living room when they walked inside. She looked surprised yet pleased to see Arya, and went up immediately to hug her and kiss both her cheeks. "What are you doing here? Are we going out?" she asked curiously, looking from Aegon to Arya in confusion.

"I'm just giving Arya a quick tour of the house before she leaves for the city again. She's not staying for much longer," Aegon replied smoothly, taking Arya's hand in his and leading her up the stairs. They went up to the third floor where Aegon opened one of the doors at the end of the long hallway. Apparently, it was his bedroom. He sat comfortably on his bed but didn't offer her a place to sit, so Arya just stood awkwardly, leaning against his desk.

"Why am I here?" she asked. "Why couldn't I just listen to the 'true story' back at the coffee shop? Why do I have to be in your bedroom for this?"

"Because I don't care about Rhaegar or Lyanna," Aegon said.

Arya was shocked at how unemotional he sounded when he spoke the words. "But he was your father."

"I know. And I never knew him, not really. He was killed when I was just a baby. But his death forced me and Dany to be kept in hiding for years while Robert Baratheon was free to go about his days as if nothing had happened."

"What does Robert have to do with anything? He was in love with Lyanna, but she never returned his feelings."

"But he killed my father out of jealousy."

Arya faltered on the spot. "What?"

Aegon looked absolutely gleeful at finding her weak spot. "So your father didn't say anything about that, hmm?" he asked in a slightly mocking tone. "Yeah, Rhaegar was killed in a car crash, along with Lyanna and her brother Brandon. And the car that killed them was Robert's. He just hadn't known that Lyanna or Brandon were in the car as well." Aegon stood up from his bed and walked over to her, taking her hands in his and looking intently into her eyes. "Arya. I don't want to fight with you over this. The story of Rhaegar and Lyanna happened a long time ago, and it's a story that has nothing to do with me, or Dany, or you. It's our parents' story to tell, and to worry about." He brushed a piece of hair back from her face and cocked his head to the side. "Don't make their story the reason you don't want to be my friend."

Arya picked up on the slight change of voice when he mentioned the word  _friend_. Some kind of bitter, hateful tone. "Then why did you tell me to ask my father about the story in the first place?" she asked desperately.

"Because I was upset that you'd be leaving soon, and I was too drunk, and I just don't know, Arya. It was my mistake, and I apologize for it. But I don't want you to not see me anymore because of something my father did."

He backed her up against the wall, his hands still holding hers, and his lips brushed against her own softly. It was a very chaste kiss, but it still made Arya to feel like beetles were dancing up and down her arms, legs, and spine. She didn't want to pull away and make him angry, but she couldn't keep kissing him. She felt like gagging, bile rising up in her throat. The story her father had told her was ringing in her ears. . . _Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna. . .Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna. . .Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna. . . ._

Arya pushed back, breathing heavily, and looked back into Aegon's eyes. His eyes were on fire, blazing with heat. "When are you coming back to Manhattan?" she choked out, feeling each word sticking in her throat.

Aegon's hand went back to her hair again, twirling the strands around his fingers. For a moment, Arya leaned into the touch, feeling that if she could forget about what his father had done, she'd be able to enjoy the sensation, maybe even enjoy kissing him again. But then he spoke, and it ruined everything.

"Soon."


	6. The Return To Manhattan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone so long! Gendrya Week and work kind of took over my life, but I'm back now so you're gonna start getting your updates again!

When Arya returned to Manhattan, the first thing Sansa did was tell her to get a date.

Now, Arya had absolutely known that Sansa would pressure Arya into finding a date for her engagement party. She wasn't happy about it, not at all, but she really had no choice. This was her sister and it was one of the biggest moments of her life. She should do whatever she could to make sure Sansa stayed happy throughout this engagement, and if suffering through a night with an arrogant man would do it, then so be it.

Besides, Arya had been feeling guilty about yelling at Sansa the last time they had seen each other. She had left two days early, and Arya threw it in her face. The least she could do was ask her mother if there were any single men around her age to spend the party with. The party was in three days, and there really wasn't that much time left, but she was determined to make it work.

Jon, meanwhile, had been given the task of finding a bartender for the party, and he seemed to have charmed a woman into it. Ygritte seemed nice enough, from what Arya had seen, and she wasn't afraid to give Jon any comments that came to her head. Jon had taken a very strong liking to her and from the time he had introduced her to Arya, he had not shut up about her. Personally, Arya was just happy that Jon was even coming to the party. Her whole family was going to be there, obviously, but Arya had been terrified that Cat would pressure Sansa into asking Jon to stay home for the night. If that had happened, Arya wouldn't have hesitated to tell Sansa and Cat that she wouldn't be attending the party, either. But now that he was, it seemed that she had no excuse to back out of the party, so Arya was forced to agree to whatever Sansa wished to make the planning easier on her.

Sansa did appear to appreciate Arya's effort, even if it was reluctantly.

They were currently looking through dresses at one of Sansa's favorite stores. She was holding out various options for Arya to try on, but she kept on refusing them, shaking her head distastefully. Arya had been choosing some herself, but Sansa had soon taken over when she finally deemed her younger sister's choices to be too inappropriate for the night.

Eventually, they had managed to agree on three dresses that Arya would try on and they'd have to pick one of them by the end of the day. The first was a pretty and simple lilac color, but Sansa didn't like it very much because her own dress was going to be a shade of purple. The second was a green dress that reached the floor, but Arya thought she was too short to pull off a dress that long. And the third dress was a black sleeveless one with a beaded bodice and a short skirt that went to her knees with a sheer overlay that just brushed the floor. Neither Arya nor Sansa had anything bad to say about that one, so Arya agreed to wear it with only minimal snarky comments about its style. She loved the dress and thought it looked quite nice on her, but the thought of wearing it to a public party where everyone, and by everyone she meant the whole city, would see her in it, did not sit well with her.

Once Sansa said that Arya was free to go, she immediately went back to the house, put the shopping bags on her bed to take care of later, and went right back out to her car so she could drive to the one place she'd been dying to go to ever since she'd gotten back the previous day.

She didn't even bother knocking on the garage's door. Arya just opened it and, silently thanking Gendry for being careless enough to leave it unlocked on a day the shop was closed, crept up behind him quietly. She yanked out the headphones in his ears and laughed loudly when he jumped out of his seat, looking around wildly for whatever had done that.

"So you're back," Gendry grumbled as he sat back down in his stool once he saw it was only her. Truth be told, Gendry too had missed her while she was away, and Arya knew it from the amount of times they would exchange texts and phone calls back and forth almost every night.

"Don't sound so excited to see me, please. I've only been gone a whole month," said Arya sarcastically as she took a seat on the floor in front of them. She propped her legs up and rested her elbows on her knees, putting her chin on her fists. "This is all you'll be able to see of me for the next few days, so I thought you might like a visit."

At this, Gendry looked down at her curiously. "Why won't I be seeing you for the next few days?" he asked cautiously. He and Arya hadn't seen very much of each other but they had managed to keep in contact through their phones. And he didn't want to sound too eager, but dammit he wanted to have an actual face-to-face conversation with her.

Arya rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Sansa's engagement party," she whined. "It's all over the news, I'm surprised you haven't heard the date is three days away. August 1st. I had to go dress shopping today with her, and according to both Sansa and my mother, it's absolutely forbidden that I go to the party without a date with me." Disgust was ringing loudly and obviously in her voice, and she relished in the fact that she could talk about her dislike for this event as much as she wanted without anybody telling her to watch her mouth. It was just Gendry here.

"So you'll be finding a date, then?" asked Gendry, his eyebrows creeping upward in surprise. He didn't look very pleased at the thought of her going to a social and very public event with a date, but Gendry didn't always look so pleased about anything, so Arya wasn't alarmed.

"Yes," Arya continued to complain. "It's going to be awful. My mother will probably make me take Edric Dayne or someone as equally as boring as him. I'll be miserable the entire night, since everyone is going to be so busy having fun. Bran and Rickon will be off by themselves, Robb will be with his own fiancee, Sansa will be the belle of the ball, and Jon will be trying to hit it off with that bartender he got. And I'll be stuck with boring old Edric Dayne."

"So don't go with him," Gendry said.

"No, you don't understand. It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because everyone that I would ask to go with wouldn't be good enough for a mother who's trying to force me to date a certain boy even though I've made it clear a hundred times that I don't to."

"What kind of mother would force their daughter to date someone they don't want to?"

" _My_  mother," Arya said sadly, slumping against the wall of the garage.

"So go with someone else. Tell her that you've found a different date and you don't need her to look for one anymore."

Arya looked up at him with curious eyes and paused a long time before she spoke again. "So you go with me."

Gendry blanched, eyes widening in surprise. He hadn't been expecting her to ask him to the engagement party, and the thought of going to a socialite's party made fear shoot through his veins, icy cold. He was in no condition to attend one. How could she even think of asking him to go with her? But the way that Arya was looking at him now, with her eyes bright and hopeful that he'd save her from a miserable night stuck with a supposedly boring man who she had no interest in, made Gendry want to say yes. The word got stuck in his throat, though he wanted to force it out. She was giving him a look, worry mixing with frustration. She thought he didn't want to go with her, that she'd actually have to have Edric Dayne as her date. So instead of saying any of his fears and worries, he just said the next truthful thing that came to mind. "I don't have a suit."

Arya's eyebrows went up, unsure if he was agreeing to go as long as he got a suit in time or if he was telling her this little detail was going to prevent him from saying yes to her. She waited for him to continue, but he just sat there staring at her stupidly. Finally, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, so I'll get you a damn suit. But will you say yes already?"

Gendry looked absolutely helpless, and Arya would have felt bad for him if she wasn't so desperate for a way to save her evening. "I don't want to owe you anything," he said softly, and Arya was filled with guilt. Of course. Gendry couldn't just buy a suit at the drop of a hat. She nodded and prepared herself to say that she'd find another date. "But. . .I'll go," said Gendry. "I'll make it work." Arya let out her breath, feeling relief surge through her at the thought of telling Cat that she didn't need to take Edric Dayne to the party.

"I can ask my brother if you can borrow one of his suits," Arya told him quickly, scrambling up from the floor and walking over to the door of the garage. "He looks about your size, and he'll do it." Gendry was looking at her with amusement, following her movements with his eyes, but she didn't seem to notice. "So the party is in three days, and I'll pick you up. And, um, thanks," she finished off awkwardly.

As Arya walked out of the garage, Gendry watched her leave with a smile on his lips.

. . .

"I need your help."

Jon looked up at his sister from his phone. He was sitting on a chair in his room, typing away quickly. "With what?" he asked.

Arya took a deep breath before spitting it out. "My date to Sansa's engagement party needs a suit. And I told him that you'd do it already."

"You did  _what_?" asked Jon incredulously.

"Don't make me repeat it. I realize how stupid it was."

"Do you really?"

"Yes! But I really don't want to go with anyone Sansa or Mom would pick out for me, so I just. . .asked him and he said yes and then he told me he didn't have a suit, so I said that you'd lend him one. Because, you know, you look about the same size."

Jon looked as if he had been hit in the head. He was staring at her with a mix of astonishment and amusement on his face. "Who's this date of yours that doesn't seem to own a suit?" he asked curiously, setting his phone aside.

"His name's Gendry Waters. He's a mechanic who fixed my car a few weeks ago, and we became friends," said Arya in a rush.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was a short pause, filled with an awkward silence, until Jon simply stood up and went to his closet. He came out a minute later, holding up a plain black suit on a hanger. "I want it back after the party."

Arya took the suit and, shouting a quick thank you to him as she left the room, ran to her own. She put the suit on her bed carefully before reaching for her own phone.

"Hello?"

"I got you a suit."

"Oh."

"So you're coming."

"Okay."

"I'll drop it off tomorrow."

"Okay."

"And Jon wants it back after the party."

"Okay."

"And we'll pick you up by seven."

"Okay."

"Stop saying okay to everything."

"Sorry."

"Gendry?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Arya."


	7. An Engagement Party

"I hate this."

Sansa glanced up at Arya from her place at her vanity table where she was currently curling her hair and pinning them back in a very complicated manner. "You look fine, Arya."

Arya turned back to the mirror in Sansa's room, pulling at the dress again. What had she been thinking, agreeing to this dress? Now that she thought about it, the skirt was way too short underneath the see-through part and  _oh, my God_  her breasts felt like they were being flattened against her chest like she was eleven and underdeveloped all over again. It was impossible to be comfortable in this dress. The silver heels that she was wearing were digging into the soles of her feet and walking on a slant was not going to be a pleasant feeling for the night. She could barely stand still in front of a mirror, how was she supposed to walk around the room? Arya wanted to rip off the shoes and throw them at Sansa's head, tear off this ridiculously expensive and way too complicated dress and shove it back at the saleslady who had given it to them. She just wanted to change back into her pajamas and have a sitcom marathon on Netflix with a carton of cookie dough ice cream and whipped cream.

"Come here," Sansa said, exasperation coloring her voice as she stood up from her chair and walked over to Arya. She lifted the hem of the long skirt and tugged the shorter one down so it brushed Arya's mid-thigh. Then she bent down and unstrapped Arya's heels from her feet, loosening the straps that felt like they were trying to suffocate Arya's ankles until they were tied much more comfortably there. "You'll get used to the walking after a bit."

"I don't want to get used to it. I want to change."

"Arya!" Sansa threw her hands up in frustration.

"What?" Arya yelled back indignantly. "Can you blame me for not being happy with this right now?"

" _This is my engagement party!_ " Sansa hissed at her, completely ignoring her sister's question. Though, in her defense, it was rhetoric. "I am getting married soon and this is the party that I have decided to throw to celebrate that. And you, as my sister and my maid of honor, should feel indescribably happy that I have found the person that I choose to spend the rest of my life with. So you can show up in sweats and a ratty t-shirt with your hair unwashed and unstyled or a ballgown designed by Vera Wang with the most expensive shoes ever for all I care, but you better show up to the party with your date because I am your sister and you should feel  _happy_  for me." Her face was red at the end of her speech, and she was breathing very heavily.

So Arya, feeling just a little bit impressed at her sister for standing up for herself like that, just tugged her skirt down a little bit more and walked out of the room.

She picks up her phone from her bed and checks it, feeling a small smile curl her lips up at the sight of the eight texts that Gendry has sent her in the past hour, all describing the various stages of stress he seems to have gone through.

_Gendry: Arya, the suit is feeling a little tight and I'm scared I'll rip it._

_Gendry: Oh no wait I got it it's fine. It's not ripped I promise don't tell your brother I almost thought I ripped his suit because I didn't okay._

_Gendry: How do you tie a tie?_

_Gendry: Never mind, I looked it up on youtube._

_Gendry: Do your parents know I'm coming to this thing in the first place?_

_Gendry: And why haven't you answered any of my texts?_

_Gendry: My god Arya you're giving me anxiety right now_

_Gendry: Just answer the fucking texts or I'm not coming_

Rolling her eyes, Arya called Gendry, pacing her room as she tried to get used to the feeling of the heels.

"Fucking finally," was the response she got.

"Hello to you, too," Arya greeted Gendry on the phone, picking at a stray bead that had fallen loose on her bodice and was now hanging precariously from the string it had been sewn on with the others. "How's the tie going? Did YouTube help you?" she asked him as she chanced a look at herself in the mirror once more, fiddling with her hair with her free hand, which Sansa had styled into a waterfall braid.

"I am going to fucking kill you," Gendry said. "Why the fuck do people even have engagement parties? Just post a picture on Instagram and get married."

"You know," said Arya as she sat back on her bed carefully, making sure not to wrinkle her dress. "I was waiting for you to freak out, if I'm being honest. You seemed too calm about it all. I knew a freak-out would happen eventually."

"I hate you," he said simply.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said blithely. "Are you ready, though? Because we're leaving as soon as Sansa is done with her hair." Arya's own hair was causing her to feel anxious; there were too many curls and pins done too intricately and she knew she'd have a huge headache when she undid her hair later on tonight.

"I'm ready. And I'm waiting here. At the shop. Like you asked me to."

"Good boy."

She could practically feel the frustration he was emanating through the phone, and Arya had to fight her grin was breaking through on her face even though she knew he wasn't able to see it.

"I'll be there to pick you up soon," Arya assured him kindly, letting a softness lace her tone so he knew she was truly grateful for what he was doing for her tonight despite his obvious discomfort.

Gendry sighed heavily on the other end. "Thank you," he said grudgingly, but Arya heard the same softness to his voice that Arya had given to him.

She hung up on him and walked back to Sansa's room, knocking once. "Come in!" Sansa called out, and Arya went in. When Sansa saw who it was, she scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes before looking back in her mirror. She was splitting her curled hair into two sections and sliding a headband on. She looked stunning, really, with her auburn hair curled perfectly and her makeup applied wonderfully. Her sleeveless light purple dress had a beaded round neckline with an empire waist and reached the floor in a loose and billowy skirt. As always, she looked beautiful, like the epitome of perfection. Despite her frustration with the situation, Arya felt a little droplet of happiness invade her mind. This was Sansa's night, at least until the actual wedding.

. . .

"Hey, Arya."

Arya was honest to God trying her hardest not to laugh. Up till now, she had only seen Gendry in jeans marked with grease smudges and t-shirts that used to be white but weren't any longer from overuse and dirt. And now she was seeing him walk out of the shop in Jon's suit, looking very uncomfortable and nervous. It seemed he had tried his best to tame his messy black hair but failed and given up because while the top looked decent, the sides were still unbelievably unruly. And he seemed to have no idea what to do with his hands. He had them in the pockets of the suit pants, and then he was wringing them nervously, but then he had them back in his pockets only to take them out and settle them at his sides forecefully, as if he was trying his hardest to get them to stay still. Arya felt like she was going to die from not laughing.

"You look. . .different," Arya commented, giving him a look as she crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

"Shut up," Gendry shot back, rolling his eyes. "You look very pretty."

Arya was taken aback by the sudden compliment. She hadn't been expecting one, and it wasn't unwelcome. She hid her smile as she turned her back on him and walked out of the shop, leading the way to the limo where her whole family was waiting and slid in the seat effortlessly while Gendry clambered in after her.

"You must be Gendry Waters," said Cat, giving him a quick up-and-down look.

Gendry looked like a fish, floundering for the right answer.  _Jesus_ , Arya thought to herself.  _She didn't even ask a question!_

After a round of very stiff and uncomfortable introductions, Jon tried to bring Gendry into a conversation with Robb, and it seemed that Gendry had found the people he would be spending the majority of the night with. Robb and Jon were clearly attempting to lessen the tension in the air, but Sansa's back was ramrod straight and her mouth was pursed so tightly her lips looked like a thin straight line, and Cat kept throwing disapproving glances between both her youngest daughter and the date she had decided to bring.

"I understand you're also getting married soon," Gendry said to Robb, who was holding the hand of Jeyne beside him. Despite the easy tone of their conversation, Gendry was still clearly trying to make a good impression and therefore sounded much too formal.

"Yes, I am," Robb said happily, glancing at Jeyne with gleaming eyes. "Mid-September is supposed to be the date. We've been planning this for a while. It's nice to see the wedding coming closer."

"That's good," Gendry says, and then silence falls over everyone in the entire limo. Arya feels nerves of her own creep over her spine and around her throat, choking her until she feels lightheaded and all she wants to do is  _get out_.

When they finally pulled up to the hall where the engagement party was being held, Arya nearly tumbled out of the limo in her desperation to leave and get inside so she could get some champagne in her system. She thought she deserved a very big drink at this moment.

Inside the hall, after Sansa and Joffrey had made their grand appearance, Arya collapsed into one of the chairs at the head table where the two families would be sitting. Gendry joined her after a few moments, but Arya didn't say anything to acknowledge his presence. She just sat and stared out at the sea of people who had come to witness the celebration of the announcement of the future union of her sister and her fiancee.

Engagement parties, Arya decided, were pointless.

"How are you liking the party so far?" Gendry asked as he watched Arya take a glass of champagne off a passing waiter's tray and take a long sip from it.

Arya shrugged, swirling the gold liquid around in her tall and elegant glass. "It's alright. Engagement parties are pretty stupid, though, don't you think? Like, it's basically a pre-wedding that you only have to show off the fact that you're going to have a real wedding in a few months. You might as well hold a big banner that says 'This entire party is just a way for us to show that we're so happy we're getting married soon but not tonight, so we're just gonna throw a huge party to announce that we're having our wedding in a few months'."

Gendry was trying not to laugh at the bluntness of Arya's tone. He had a feeling she might already be a bit tipsy, but he'd only seen her take one or two glasses of champagne during the entire night. "Arya," he said with a not-so-steady voice, "are you drunk right now?"

Arya glanced up at him from underneath her eyelashes, slumped down in her chair and one arm tucked underneath the elbow of the arm holding her current glass. "I might be a little tipsy," she admitted.

Gendry rolled his eyes. "You should really put down the champagne and start socializing," he advised her. "It's the best thing you can do."

Arya gave him a venomous look, but she slammed down her glass of champagne on the white tablecloth and stood up. "Fine. Then as my date, you should be coming with me," she told him. She took his hand in hers and started off to a large group of people.

Right before she made it, the oldest woman, a wrinkly old woman with intense eyes, turned and saw them heading their way. "Oh, Arya! How lovely to see you again!"

Arya let go of Gendry's hand to hug her and kiss her on both cheeks. "Gendry, this is Olenna Tyrell. She's the grandmother of my sister's best friend Margaery." As she spoke, she indicated a tall and beautiful woman with long brown hair and eyes that matched her grandmother. She looked very calculating, like she was trying to decipher every move everyone made. "And this is her older brother Willas," Arya said as she pointed out a man who was balancing himself on a crutch but smiled warmly at Gendry nonetheless. "And her younger brother Loras." Gendry made eye contact with a very handsome man wearing a white suit. It seemed only he was able to pull of white suits effortlessly. Gendry got the feeling that Loras could probably pull off just about anything.

After a short conversation with the Tyrells, Arya led him away and onto the next family she thought he should meet. "They're slightly less warmer," she warned him as the next group of people turned to look at them approaching. "You've already had the pleasure of meeting Joffrey, my sister's fiancee, but you haven't met his family. This is his father Robert Baratheon, our governor, and his mother Cersei." Cersei, Gendry decided, always looked like she was smelling something bad, but he tried to give his most pleasant smile to both of them despite his nerves. "And his brother and sister Tommen and Myrcella are right here. These are his two uncles, Stannis and Renly, who help run Baratheon Corp. This is Stannis's wife Selyse and his daughter Shireen." Gendry's eyes caught on the girl Arya told him to be Shireen. She had very long scars running up and down the left side of her otherwise beautiful face, but he forced himself not to stare. Arya caught him doing so, though, and her voice shook nervously as she continued. "And this is Cersei's father Tywin Lannister, her twin brother Jaime, and her younger brother Tyrion." Jaime was tall and blonde and handsome, but he had cold eyes that surveyed the room with a sharp edge, while Tyrion was. . .the exact opposite. He came up to Gendry's waist and he had two mismatched eyes that looked up at Gendry with an expression that seemed nice enough.

Gendry wanted to leave right now.

Around three hours into the party, Arya appeared at his side once again, sitting down in the chair across from him at the table they had been eating at. The dinner, Gendry thought, was probably the best part of the whole evening so far.

"Come with me," Arya told him.

Gendry eyed her curiously. "Why?"

"Because I have something very sweet for you," said Arya, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

Gendry cautiously got up and followed her out of the large room the party was in, and was led around the entire hall, turning through sharp corners and walking up a flight of long, winding and twisting stairs before eventually stopping in a hallway that was a bit smaller but no less elegant than the other rooms they'd been through. Arya slid down the wall and sat up against it and Gendry followed suit. She pulled out a bottle of champagne from behind her back with a grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes, popping it open and offering it to him.

Gendry paused, his hand twitching, and eventually decided to take the risk. He took the bottle and took a long swig of it, passing it back to Arya after he was done.

"You wanna play a game?" Arya asked him temptingly as she leaned over to be closer to him on her hands and knees, eyebrows raised comically high.

Gendry gave her the side-eye, resting his elbows on his knees. "No."

Arya looked slightly disappointed. She got off her hands and knees and settled back against the wall, a pout decorating her lips. She drank repeatedly from the bottle and occasionally offered it to Gendry, snatching it right back from him after he finished.

"Where were you born?" Arya asked suddenly.

Gendry took the bottle out of her hands and answered without missing a beat. "Brooklyn. Born and raised. Still live there. But I work in Manhattan now."

"What about your parents?"

"My mom died. Never knew my father."

"Do you want to ask me a question?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because your whole life is already everywhere. I don't need to ask when the papers pretty much cover everything I need to know."

"If you think any of that stuff is true, you're stupid."

"I don't. But it's a lot easier than asking questions."

Arya didn't speak for a few minutes after that. She cradled the bottle in her hands like a child and occasionally took sips out of it but she did not speak. Gendry chanced a glance over at her and saw her eyes downcast, her mouth wearing a small but visible frown of confusion and disappointment. She didn't think he wanted to ask her questions because he wasn't interested in her.

Sighing heavily, he turned his body against the hallway's wall to face her. "What's your favorite color?" he asked.

Arya looked up at him with the hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips, her eyes brightening. "Red."

"What about your favorite television show?"

" _Friends_. And before you ask, my favorite movie is  _The Godfather_. And my favorite book is the  _Outsiders_."

Gendry grinned at her answers. Maybe it was the alcohol going to his head or maybe he was just feeling as if he was in a dream right now, but he wanted to lean over and kiss her. And he had a feeling that she'd kiss him back.

Arya met his eyes, and they were cloudy and hazy with the heavy affect of alcohol while his were bright and aware despite him being a little drunk himself. She leaned over and her lips met his cheek in a soft brush of a kiss. Gendry felt the kiss all the way down to his toes even though it was barely even a touch. He was frozen but all he wanted to do was tip his head and turn it to the side so she'd meet his lips with his own. But he didn't dare. He only sat there, against the wall in this empty hallway they were hiding out in, and let her kiss his cheek softly. When she leaned back, her own eyes seemed clear again, looking at him with something fierce and urgent burning in her gaze.

"Arya!"

Arya's head whipped around and she saw Sansa running toward them as fast as her long dress would allow her to go. The skirt was flying out behind her, and her face was red and furious.

"What are you doing here? Everyone's wondering where you and your date were!" At this, Sansa turned to glare at Gendry and Gendry felt himself turn red. "Reporters are here. Your family is here. What were you thinking?"

Arya rolled her eyes and stood up, brushing off the back of her dress. "Jeez, Sansa, calm down. It's no big deal. We were just having fun."

They were walking back down the stairs to the main hall again, Gendry trailing after the two sisters currently arguing a few steps ahead of him.

"Just having fun? Arya, this is my engagement party! And you've ruined it with yet another scandal."

When they reached the door to the main hall, Sansa pushed it open with brute force and stalked away from them, finding Joffrey and giving him a soft kiss on the lips before whispering a few words in his ear. Arya and Gendry stood in the doorway by themselves, struck silent from Sansa's outburst, until Sansa returned to their side a few moments later.

"We're getting Gendry a cab home. It's covered on me and Joffrey. He's going now." Sansa folded her arms in a very unapologetic type of way and Gendry really didn't have any other choice but to nod and walk out.

"I'm really sorry for ruining your night, Sansa," Gendry said before he left without looking Arya in the eyes. Sansa just tipped her chin up at him, the only indication that she had heard and acknowledged his apology.

"Let's go back to the party, Arya," Sansa said tiredly, leading her younger sister away and not even noticing that she was glancing wistfully over her shoulder at the man who was currently walking away from her.


	8. A Rumor Of Inconvenience

**STARK-BARATHEON ENGAGEMENT PARTY STRIKES UP RUMORS**

_The engagement of Sansa Stark, daughter of businessman and important public figure Eddard 'Ned' Stark (46), and Joffrey Baratheon, son of Ned's longtime best friend Robert Baratheon, our governor, was met with great joy. After seven years of dating very seriously, these two have finally planned to tie the knot. And what better way to celebrate that than to throw a party?_

_The engagement party was held at the very beginning of August in a beautiful hall decorated to perfection. Sansa (22) looked absolute magnificent as she always does (look at the picture inset). Joffrey (22) looked handsome as well with his bride to be on his arm. But the couple soon to be married was not what captured our attention, though we are sad to admit it. Sansa Stark's younger sister did, however._

_Arya Stark (19) is about to be a sophomore in college, where she's studying dance. She's always been known for being a bit. . .rough around the edges. She wouldn't even give a statement talking about her sister's engagement to the 'love of her life', as Sansa so romantically puts it. But at this specific party, Arya was seen with a man that, surprisingly, wasn't her brother! She looked just as stunningly gorgeous as her older sister (picture inset) and the man she attended the party with was equally as good looking._

_Now, we aren't sure if there's an actual relationship budding here or if Arya just took an old friend as her date because she couldn't find anyone else, to put it rather bluntly. But her date (Gendry Waters, is his name, information given to us by a source said to be a close friend of the Starks and Gendry) is just too handsome to be just a friend._

_The best part? They were seen sneaking off together at one point in the party a few hours after they'd arrived, making sure no one was looking after them to stop them. They weren't seen for about a half hour, and then Sansa came back in the hall with Arya and Gendry (24) in tow. According to several partygoers, both of them looked rather flustered and embarrassed to be caught red-handed doing. . .well, whatever they were up to alone. Sansa apparently was even more embarrassed by her sister's flamboyant and shameless actions, because she and Joffrey payed for a cab to take Gendry home early while Arya went home with her family members in the limo they'd all arrived in._

_Is Arya going to be planning a wedding alongside her older sister and her older brother, Robb (25), who is due to have his wedding in mid-September to his girlfriend of four years and fiancee of a year, Jeyne Westerling (24)?_

_If she is, than it must be a very happy day for the Stark family. Ned and his wife, Catelyn 'Cat' Tully-Stark (45) have been hoping for their kids to marry people who love them as much as they love each other. Robb and Sansa seem to be doing fine on their own, and Arya might be joining the wedding club soon enough, we hope!_

_Unfortunately, we have not been able to gather much information on Gendry Waters himself. When we were first told of his age, we were shocked. A five year age gap? It's sure to cause some scandal, but not from this magazine! As long as love is the ultimate goal in this maybe-relationship, then we say, from now, that we support it every step of the way. According to this source close to both the Stark family and Gendry himself, Gendry is a mechanic working in Manhattan but lives in Brooklyn. The vast difference between Arya and Gendry's social circles is definitely noted by us, and we're positive it's a topic of serious conversation between these two. In any case, Gendry must enjoy being introduced to this very elite world that Arya has suddenly given him the key to. We hope to see them together more often at more parties and events._

_As soon as we hear more about the relationship status of the very private Arya Stark, we'll be the first to let you know about it!_

. . .

"Arya!"

"What?"

"What the hell is this?"

"A newspaper. . .?"

"Look at the damn article!"

"What's so important about it?"

"Read it!"

"Why?"

It seemed that Sansa was in no mood for Arya's attitude today because she shoved the newspaper under her sister's nose and forced her to read the article printed there. Arya scanned the short article quickly and when she was finished, her eyes closed tiredly and she groaned.

"I didn't do anything," Arya said immediately.

"Yes, you did! You're the whole reason this article was written. You and your stupid date from last night."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Stop being so over dramatic. It's not a big deal. I'll tell the papers there's nothing going on between me and Gendry and then all they'll be able to talk about is you. And the world will go back to the way it once was."

Sansa shook her head. "It's more than that. They're going to be looking at you now. They'll be stopping you on the street, bombarding you with questions no matter where you go. This article just opened a gateway for them to invade your personal life, something they've been dying to do since you walked outside with Mom and Dad. You've always been the quiet one, and they want to get rid of that."

Folding her arms, Arya slumped against the couch she was sitting on, raising her eyebrows. "Once again, don't be so over dramatic. It's not that big of a deal."

. . .

It was. Arya always hated to admit it, but Sansa was right. She was on her way to her car to go to the store and she was surrounded.

"Arya! Are you dating Gendry Waters?"

"Can you tell us anything about your mysterious date from the night before?"

"Why aren't you making an official statement announcing your relationship with Mr. Waters?"

"Does the five year age gap worry your parents?"

"Is his lack of connections and money a concern for you two?"

Arya did what she always did when reporters started flocking to her: She pushed her way through and walked away. But now that the story was about  _her_ , and only her, they were acting particularly vicious.

It took a while, but she managed to force her way through the sea of greedy reporters thirsty for a statement from her. She opened the door to her car and slid inside, starting it up. Her phone began buzzing in her pocket, so she pulled it open.

_Gendry: We need to talk_.

Arya looked around to make sure no one was trying to creep up on her and called him back. He picked up before the first ring even stopped.

"Arya!"

He sounded exhausted and his voice was thick and gravelly. Arya had a feeling he had just woken up.

"What's up?" she asked, trying to force her voice to sound casual and unperturbed.

"We need to talk. How soon can you get here?"

"To the shop?"

"Yes!"

Arya glanced at the clock on her dashboard. "Give me twenty minutes?"

He hung up without another word and Arya stared at her phone silently, her face puckered. He'd obviously seen the article. Was he angry with her, even though she had literally no way to know what the reporters and gossip columnists would say?

Pulling into the parking lot of the shop, she removed her seat belt and took a deep and calming breath before climbing out of her car, willing herself to calm her nerves. This was  _Gendry_ , after all. She had nothing to worry about.

He was waiting for her inside the garage, sitting on the ground and going through an assortment of various car parts. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a white tank top with several grease stains spotted around the fabric. At first he didn't seem to notice her, but then he looked up and the frustration that was blazing there startled Arya so much that she didn't even step inside. She just stood by the doorway and fiddled with the handle nervously.

"What the  _hell_ ," Gendry began, flinging a magazine in her direction, "is that?" The magazine was different than the one that Sansa had shown her earlier that day. Instead, there was a picture on the front cover of Arya and Gendry, standing next to each other in the doorway of the hall the engagement party had been held at last night. The rest of the Stark family and their various dates were surrounding them. This must have been a picture taken when they'd first arrived at the party. She flipped to the article about them. It was much the same as what she'd read in the previous magazine, but now that Gendry was here, she felt so much more self-conscious and less sure and confident about her proclamations that everything would be okay.

"Well," Arya said, handing the magazine back to him. "It's an article of lies and it doesn't mean anything. Trust me, I've dealt with all sorts of rumors that I'm dating someone. Every time I so much as talk to a boy, everyone in New York and their mother is convinced I'll show up with a big diamond on my ring finger within the next week."

That had been the worst thing she could have said. Gendry looked positively wrecked. His face was pale and he looked nervous and shaken and so,  _so_  stubborn. Arya didn't really understand what the big deal was. He must have known that being friends with her would come at a price, and that price was this. She hadn't exactly been expecting there to be such a big rumor surrounding their friendship, but still. It was true that she'd dealt with relationship rumors before. She was no stranger to gossip. She'd even had an article speculating a pregnancy scare when she was a junior, something that had started a long and tedious lawsuit ending with the Starks suing the magazine that had published the article and subsequently putting them out of business.

"I can't. . .no," Gendry said. "I can't have that kind of pressure on me. I won't do it. Why would I? Why would I disrupt the quiet and nice life I've built for myself to live with reporters and journalists and gossip columnists knocking at my door and asking me if I've been ring shopping yet? It was one night and they already think we're going to get married! We aren't even dating. We haven't done anything like that! I shouldn't have to deal with that. I just want to go back to the life I had before your stupid car broke down. I shouldn't have to be scared every time someone comes to my apartment. Do you know how many people have knocked on my door since last night with a tape recorder and a notebook and pen? Seven! I counted! And it's not even noon yet! The party was last night and look what's already happened! And you expect me to be okay with that?"

"I'm not saying you should be okay with it, but it's going to go away once they realize we're not together," Arya said, her voice sounding considerably smaller and less quiet than it had been before Gendry went on his rant. "Once they see that we aren't dating or getting engaged or anything like that, they'll move onto something else. My brother's wedding is in a month. My sister is getting married. There are hundreds of other socialites who have far more interesting stories to tell than I do."

Gendry shook his head. "No," he said. His voice was strained and all Arya wanted to do was go over to him and hug him, comfort him, tell him that he didn't know what to expect because he was new to all of this. But she wasn't. She'd help them both survive the slew of reporters that were going to keep coming. "They're asking about my  _money_ , Arya. They're telling me that the difference between our "social circles" or whatever the fuck you guys call them is a huge problem in our so-called  _relationship_." He spat out the last word with so much venom in his voice that it made Arya take a step back from the doorway she was still standing in. "Just go. I'll talk to you later, much later, when all of this has calmed down. When I can go back to my normal life."

Arya was struck silent. She wasn't expecting him to have this kind of reaction. It wasn't supposed to be that big of a deal! He just hasn't lived with it, he hasn't experienced the stress of rumors. He even made jokes about it, told her to text him or call him whenever one of those vultures were bothering her. But now he wasn't laughing. He wasn't even looking at her. His pained expression was what made her listen to him and walk away, backing out of the garage and out the front door of the shop. She went over to her car and drove back to her house, completely the opposite of surrised that a crowd of reporters were standing at the door waiting for her. When she stepped out of her car and made her way to the door, they pounced.

"Where were you, Arya?"

"Were you going to see Gendry?"

"Have you come to a conclusion on your relationship?"

She opened the front door, stepping inside and giving a small wave to the doorman who was currently watching the scene in front of him unfold drastically.

"Just give us one statement, Arya, one statement!"

"We just want to know if you're dating Gendry Waters!"

"It's not that big of a deal, Arya!"

Arya turned around with a straight face and a steely glint in her eyes. "I am in no kind of relationship with Gendry Waters. We are friends and he decided to come with me to the engagement party because I asked him to do me a favor. I am single and will remain so until I choose to enter a relationship with whoever I please. And it is not, nor will it ever be, any of your fucking business."


	9. Under The Evil Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I meant to address this in the last chapter, but I forgot. In chapter seven, An Engagement Party, a lot of you were sending me messages and leaving comments saying that you felt like Sansa had overreacted. Now, don't get me wrong, she did overreact. And what she did to Gendry and Arya was wrong, especially after pushing her to find a date in such short notice. But what I need everyone to understand is that Sansa needs everything to be perfect. She's used to that, she's lived her whole life with everything given to her in a state of perfection, not a single flaw in sight. So when Arya brings this date to her engagement party, and he's uncomfortable in a suit that he's borrowing from her bastard brother (yet another flaw in her eyes for the night she wants so badly to be wonderful) and he's living in Brooklyn and working as a mechanic and simply lower class. . .she just snapped when she saw them together, drunk nonetheless. It was a rash decision but it's Sansa and trust me when I say that major character development is in the works for her. So don't be afraid.
> 
> If you have any more questions, I'm emmaawaatson on tumblr :)

She had begged. She had pleaded. She had almost force herself to cry to get him to talk to her. But despite all of that, all of her hard work and effort to make things right, Gendry Waters was not answering Arya Stark's phone calls or text messages. She was frustrated and angry and stubborn and that meant that she wouldn't quit until she got him to speak to her.

"What's the big deal?" Jon asked her one day, a week after the first article had appeared. He had walked downstairs into the kitchen to find Arya sitting at the kitchen's island with her arms crossed over the surface and her chin resting there. She was staring intently at the phone as if she could will it to ring if she glared at it hard enough.

"What's the big deal?" Arya asked shrilly. "It's a big deal because my friend is no longer talking to me. And it's been a week since he said he'd  _call me_  when his life turned back to normal. Well, it's been a good two days since an article has come out about our supposed and completely untrue and made-up relationship, and he hasn't called. Or texted. Even though I've done both of those things, multiple times. But he hasn't answered. So that means that I'm just going to sit here and stare at my phone until he calls."

"Or texts," Jon added in, smiling slightly, clearly amused at the situation his youngest sister had found herself in. Arya just glared at him in response, leading him to turn around and start sifting through the fridge to look for something to eat. "You've only known him for a few months. Why do you care if he calls you back?" He shot up, giving her a suspicious look. "You don't like him, do you?"

Arya wrinkled her nose. " _No_. But he's my friend, and I like to keep my friends."

Jon shrugged. "You could always pay him to be your friend," he suggested sarcastically, a small smirk fighting its way onto his mouth. Arya snatched up an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and flung it at him.

Even though he dodged it easily, Arya still felt satisfied that she'd caught him by surprise. "Shut up," she said, annoyance evident in her tone. "I will never pay someone to be my friend, especially Gendry. Not when half the reporters are asking about his money in the first place."

For the first time, sympathy clouded Jon's eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

Arya shrugged casually, but the stiffness of the set of her shoulders gave away the stress she was under. Yes, the reporters were now gone, hopefully for good, but Arya still didn't have her friend back.

Apparently, though, she spoke too soon because Sansa came storming in, a haze of red hair, shocking pink, and undeniable rage. Her hair was done up beautifully in an elegant braid and she was wearing a gorgeous hot pink dress, but her face was red and her eyes were blazing heat.

"Arya!"

Arya looked up warily, nervous about what Sansa would say next.

"What now?" she asked.

"Look at this!" She flung a magazine at her, and Arya caught it before it slipped off the table, her eyes flitting over the page.

**HONEYMOON PHASE OF GENDRY AND ARYA COMING TO A QUICK AND DRAMATIC CLOSE**

_An unfortunate and rather unflattering new angle of the budding romance between socialite Arya Stark (19) and her rumored new love interest, Gendry Waters (24) has come to light._

_According to what we've seen so far, their relationship has been undeniably rocky since the engagement party of Arya's older sister Sansa (22) and her fiancee Joffrey Baratheon (22). It was the first time they'd been seen together and it has been a week since they've made a public appearance together since then. Is there trouble on the horizon for the two love birds?_

_Arya has never been the most welcoming of girls (Just look at videos of her answering reporters on the street), but could this be the reason they haven't been spotted together? Are they finally letting the difference between social class and money get the best of them and letting it ruin the relationship we were all rooting for? Or have they simply decided to take their relationship into a more private and secret section of their lives, away from prying eyes? We can't tell for sure, because they're certainly doing a good job at hiding themselves from the world, but we're determined to find out._

_Our guess is that money and social class differences has caused a possibly irreparable rift between the two of them. Arya is the youngest daughter of a very important public figure and is a socialite and debutante herself who lives in the elite world of the Upper East Side, while Gendry is simply a mechanic hailing from Brooklyn who reportedly hardly gets by._

_If I were to place my bets, I would say that the odds are not in the favor of these two. Why would they be? Arya and Gendry had one night out together and even though bringing him to an engagement party is a rather big step in a relationship no one was even aware of, Arya claims they are just friends. She gave her first and only statement (thus far) about the relationship between her and the mechanic, stating, and we quote: "I am in no kind of relationship with Gendry Waters. We are friends and he decided to come with me to the engagement party because I asked him to do me a favor. I am single and will remain so until I choose to enter a relationship with whoever I please. And it is not, nor will it ever be, any of your fucking business."_

_Maybe this is true or maybe she's just trying her hardest to keep her quiet girl persona intact. She's always been the most private of the Stark children, while everyone else was always rather eager to get their names in the spotlight. But now that a scandal of her own is coming into light, Arya may be out of her comfort zone. It's obvious she doesn't know how to handle all of this attention suddenly being thrust at her, so we are content to give her the space she needs to come to terms with her own feelings and we're positive that once she has the answers herself, she'll give them to us._

_Until that time, though, we're going to be forced to sit and wait for the news to come out by itself. Hopefully Arya will shed some new light on the problems surrounding her relationship with Gendry (Age gaps? Money gaps? Simple lack of connection and compatibility? Though we doubt that's the case; they were simply on fire at the engagement party!)_

_We'll be on this story 24/7, ready and willing to take any words Arya will offer us. Until next time, readers!_

"What the fuck?!" Arya shrieked, sweeping her arm across the counter and flinging the magazine to the ground. She was royally pissed at this newest article. Right when she was positive that things had died down!

"Don't swear," Jon reprimanded her from the fridge, still digging through it. He hadn't been paying enough attention to what was happening around him to realize that his sister was currently losing her mind.

"Shut up!" Arya said, giving him her middle finger.

"There's a nicer way of asking," Jon reminded her.

Sansa was still looking at Arya with a burning fury in her eyes. Arya didn't understand why Sansa was getting upset. Arya was the one being targeted by the papers. Was it because she was used to being the star of the family, and she was jealous of the fact that Arya was getting attention now, especially during the time of her engagement? It didn't make sense to her, but in truth, half of the things Sansa did made little to no sense to Arya. She was just trying to figure out how to explain this to Gendry.

"Why don't you explain why the papers are still talking about this?" Sansa said, jabbing a finger at the words printed on the glossy magazine paper. Her voice was shaking and her hand was unsteady.

"It doesn't even have anything to do with you!" said Arya.

"Yes, it does! Your actions are always being held under a microscope! It affects the entire family!"

So  _that_  was her problem, Arya realized. Sansa was worried about Arya's latest quest of rebellion. She thought she brought Gendry to the engagement to spit in her face, and every socialite and debutante. Sansa was worried it would put a bad name to their spotless reputation.

"It's my problem to handle," Arya said. "So let me handle it."

"You're not doing anything to handle it!"

"Yes, I am. In fact, I'm going to go over to Gendry right now to talk to him about this."

"Oh, that'll fix things! That'll make people think you guys aren't together anymore," Sansa said sarcastically. "You've spent this whole week staying away from him to keep the magazines away from you, but the moment another article comes out, you're rushing to his side. Way to keep your private life private."

"Oh, please," Arya bit back, rolling her eyes. "You're the last person in the world to talk to me about keeping your private life private. You're probably just jealous because the article only mentioned you by your name once!"

Sansa spun on the heel of her tall black platform wedges and grabbed her purse before walking out of the house, slamming the door behind her, leaving a giant echo in her wake. Silence followed, and Arya listened for the small  _ding!_  of their private elevator outside the door that indicated Sansa had actually left.

"God, she's such a bitch," Arya huffed, sitting back down.

"She's your sister," Jon told her.

"Ugh, don't try to sound like mom and dad," Arya said disgustedly.

"I'm just trying to help. You know, before you and Sansa get into another larger-than-life feud that drags on for months and months," Jon countered, tapping her on the nose like a child before walking out.

Arya threw a dirty look over her shoulder at him, snorting under her breath. She tapped her long fingernails against the surface of the counter, her chin nestled in the cradle of her fist as she thought to herself.

Should she call Gendry again? Or should she just visit him? Both options seemed truly terrible, but the latter seemed more likely than the former choice, and she was really itching to see him again. He had stopped answering her, so the only choice left, really, was to just. . .go to him.

Arya cast a quick look at the clock. It seemed too early to go visit him, though she'd appeared at his shop at all kinds of weird hours since she'd returned to the city. But now that their friendship seemed to be at a standstill for now and the unforeseeable future, Arya was very hesitant to appear at his door and show him the article, especially after the words he'd given her the last time they saw each other.

In the end, Arya did what she always did: What she wanted. She muttered a quiet "Fuck you" to her clock, grabbed her car keys and her bag and walked out of the house as she slid her sunglasses on top of her head.

She thought she had it under control. She was going to walk into the shop and show Gendry the article and they would talk about it rationally like the calm and level-headed human beings they had the potential of being. But the moment she pulled up to the mechanic's shop, her heart began to thump too hard and her palms began to get too sweaty. Arya tried to take a deep and calming breath but it did nothing except make her hyper aware of how unsteady her breathing rate was at the moment.

Fortunately for her, though, he wasn't in the shop today. Arya walked through the door, calling out his name as she made her way through the front and then to the door that led to the garage.

An older man was sitting in a plastic chair reading the newspaper while cheesy 80's music blared through the radio sitting on the ground next to him. When she walked in, his eyes went over to her. "He's not here," the man announced shortly before going back to his newspaper.

Arya hesitated in the doorway. "Um," she said dumbly. "Can you. . .tell me where he is?" she asked. This must be the owner of the shop, though Arya couldn't exactly recall his name. Something with an M in it, she thought.

"At his apartment."

Those three words made Arya freeze. Would she have to go to his apartment? That was all the way in  _Brooklyn!_

"Oh." Arya nodded, unsure of what she should do now. "Well, then, can you just tell him that Arya Stark stopped by to see him? Tell him that she had something to show him."

Without removing his eyes from the page of the newspaper he was currently reading, the man just grunted and gave a single jerk of his head. Arya, assuming it was a nod, left without another word and dashed to her car the second she was out of his sight.

This had to be some kind of sign.

Her brain was telling her the exact opposite, that she needed to swallow her stupid pride and ask for his address from this man who she assumed was his boss. That she needed to take it and drive there, all the way to fucking Brooklyn, and talk to him about the mess she had gotten them in because she was just too stubborn to take a date that her mother had suggested at first. But her pride was telling her not to be an idiot, that this, too, would all blow over soon enough.  _Besides_ , her pride nagged at her,  _it's not like_ nerves _are getting in the way?_

And Arya, desperate to look for any excuse not to see Gendry right now, or at least until she got her thoughts back in the order they should be in, just took it and drove back home.

. . .

The call came three days later. Arya had been laying down on her bed on her stomach, flipping through one of those trashy magazines Sansa read as she searched for any more articles about her and Gendry.

And then her phone started ringing. Her ringtone blared out, breaking through her reverie, and Arya flipped her phone over to see who was calling her. When she saw Gendry's name, she felt like her stomach had folded in on itself.

Bracing herself for whatever storm was about to hit her, Arya tapped her thumb on the bright green button, holding the phone to her ear and taking a deep and calming breath. "Hello?" she asked, forcing herself to sound casual even as her heart was performing a rapid and jittery rendition of Tango de Amor. She exhaled sharply, waiting for his response.

"Hey."

"Hey, Gendry."

"I'm assuming you saw the article."

". . .I did."

There was a very long pause between her reply and his next words, in which Arya was picking at her nails and flashing her eyes to every space in her room. "It's been three days, but. . .I was at work today and my boss said some girl came by looking for me a few days ago, and he had just remembered then. I just assumed it was you."

Arya wondered briefly if he thought it had been other girls before thinking of her, and hastily pushed the thought aside.

"And I just wanted to call you to say that, you know, um, I'm. . .well, I'm really sorry for the way that I yelled at you the last time we saw each other. It wasn't your fault, and there's really nothing I can do except wait for all of this to die down, I guess."

Relief punctured Arya's body, making her feel like a huge weight had been released from her shoulders. She smiled softly, trying not to let it show through her voice. "It's okay. It must be pretty new for you to experience all of this stuff."

"It is. And I reacted pretty badly to it."

"You did," she said.

Another pause.

"Do you wanna hang out again tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Gendry."

Arya hung up the phone feeling suddenly refreshed.


	10. Saints And Sinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think everyone will be particularly happy by the end of this chapter, if I do say so myself. It's the longest chapter I've written so far, and the amount of pride I'm feeling right now is unbelievable. I hope you guys tell me what you think of this one, because I basically threw up all 6k+ words right after posting chapter nine in like four hours and spent the next day editing it all and then I posted it. It's a huge chapter in this story, so I really hope you guys leave a comment and review.
> 
> I want to take the time to dedicate this chapter to [372259](http://archiveofourown.org/users/372259), and [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Let_Them_Burn>Let_Them_Burn</a>.%20They%20always%20manage%20to%20leave%20lovely%20comments%20on%20my%20work.%20You%20guys%20are%20awesome,%20thanks%20for%20the%20support%20:D)

Her mother kept asking her why she hadn't gone out with Edric Dayne yet, and Arya had no reasonable response.

Sansa kept telling her she needed to bury this stupid rumor about her and Gendry once and for all, and Arya knew it was the truth.

Edric Dayne came by her house earlier this week and asked her to go out with him, and Arya couldn't say no without sounding like a complete and total bitch.

So it was with a heavy heart and much annoyance that Arya got dressed that Friday, throwing a casual glance at her calendar. September 3rd. Her brother's wedding was soon, and she still didn't have a date. Maybe Edric would be hers for the night, though she shuddered at the thought. And Jeyne's bachelorette party was in a week, which she'd been invited to, and as the future sister-in-law, it was mandatory for her to go. Instead of pondering on what would happen in the next week, Arya focused on the task at hand, which was getting an outfit for her date tonight. New York's weather seemed to be forgiving tonight, and it was still rather hot, so Arya decided to stick with a pair of white shorts she loved despite the frayed hem, and a blue tank top with a black leather jacket over it. She didn't want to be too dressy tonight and give Edric the impression that she was trying to impress him and make him fall in love with her tonight. God, that sounded desperate.

As soon as she finished sliding a white headband in her black hair, she heard Cat calling her from downstairs.

Mentally preparing herself with a deep breath and a single nod to herself in the mirror, she walked downstairs.

Edric was standing in her doorway wearing a nice button down shirt and a pair of jeans. Thank God she hadn't overdressed.

"Hey, Arya."

"Edric."

He offered his arm to her and Arya, at the sight of Catelyn giving her a stern yet subtle look that clearly stated  _Do it_ , took his arm in hers and closed the door behind her. There was no discussion of curfews or playful warnings of keeping an eye on her that were obviously serious. They just let her go, just like that. Arya internally rolled her eyes at her mother's behavior. She might as well have worn a t-shirt that said I AM DESPERATE TO HAVE MY CHILDREN MARRIED OFF AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. TAKE ADVANTAGE OF WHATEVER YOU LIKE, IT'S FOR FREE. By the time they exited the elevator and entered the lobby of their building, Arya was seething on the inside.

"You look nice," Edric complimented her once they got in his car.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." Why did it come out so flirty when she had literally no interest in him?

"Thank you." He obviously took it the wrong way because he had a smile on his face for the rest of the car ride.

Arrogant bastard.

When Edric pulled up to the restaurant, the first thing Arya noticed was that it would be very expensive. Just from looking at the outside, she saw it: The flawless white paint job done on the outside, the elegant stairs that led up to the large glass double doors, and the big cursive letters that spelled out the name of the restaurant. All she saw were a bunch of  _r_ 's, all of which probably required a lot of tongue rolling. She was already getting annoyed with the turn the night had taken, and they hadn't even been seated yet.

There was a line a mile long of people waiting for a table to be seated at, but Edric simply strode past them and gave them a winning smile. "Reservations for Dayne, party of two," he said confidently.

The maître d' smiled at him familiarly. "Welcome back, Mr. Dayne. Shall I take your coat?" he asked, already reaching out his hands. Edric handed over his jacket, but Arya held onto hers protectively. This was her  _outfit_.

As they sat down at the small table for two in the center of the busy room, Arya couldn't help but suspect that this was a perfect spot for people to see her and start spreading rumors. She could just picture it: ARYA STARK CHEATING ON HER TORTURED AND POOR BOYFRIEND WITH SOCIALITE EDRIC DAYNE. She wrinkled her nose at the thought and picked up her menu, scanning the items. The thought of a good steak made her mouth water, but it was incredibly expensive. She cast a glance at Edric sitting across from her, looking at his own menu carelessly, as if the thought of money didn't bother him in the slightest. Of course, it didn't bother her, either, not when she was Eddard Stark's daughter, but she still liked to have a budget.

"How'd you find this place?" she asked casually.

"My family owns it."

"Really?"

A distant little piece of knowledge tugged at her brain. The Daynes were a family that had been investing and creating elite hotels, upscale nightclubs, and five-star restaurants for years. She blushed as she remembered this, feeling ashamed for some reason. He probably knew everything about her family, like all Upper East Side families knew everything about each other, and she hadn't even been bothered to find anything out about him. Or any other family, for that matter. She had never been interested enough to care.

Edric ordered a bottle of white wine for their table, along with a small plate of bread, caviar, and olive spread as they continued to order. He eventually decided on a Caesar salad and lobster.

"What'll you have, Miss Stark?" the waiter asked her politely as he refilled her glass of wine.

Arya cocked her head to the side as she eyed the menu. "I'll have the steak."

. . .

By the end of the night, when Edric was finishing off the last of his slice of cherry cheesecake and Arya cleared off her bowl of brownie sundae, she had to admit that she had been having fun.

Not enough fun to admit that she liked him, but fun in the way that two friends meet up for dinner and have a night to themselves.

Arya decided that she wouldn't be asking Edric to Robb and Jeyne's wedding as her date for two reasons: He had slipped in that he and his family had been invited during their conversation, and she still didn't feel like she had enough of a connection to him to want to ask him.

When he was finished with sliding in a couple hundred-dollar bills, despite Arya insisting that she should pay for her half of the meal, Edric got his jacket from the maître d' and led her out of the restaurant.

He once again joined their arms by the crooks of their elbows and together they walked through the streets of Manhattan. It was really beautiful at night, especially in the Upper East Side. New York in itself was a thing of beauty if you could look past the initial first impression of bad people, road rage, and crowded streets. And as they walked together, Arya could see herself being a very good friend of Edric Dayne.

It was only when she ran into Gendry that her night was ruined.

It had been a mistake, an honest shock when she saw him. But there he was, walking down the street with his hands in the pockets of his dirty jeans, and then they almost bumped into each other. He was about to say sorry when he got a look at who it was that he'd ran into.

"Arya." It was said in such a monotone kind of voice, said with such disinterest and disregard. It was hardly even considered a greeting, more of a statement of fact instead of her name. Arya felt embarrassment wash over her like sea water in waves at the beach. The fact that Edric was standing right next to her as Gendry spoke to her like that was shameful, and Arya couldn't help but feel the sudden and ridiculous urge to cross her arms over her stomach and fold up in a box right on the dirty sidewalk to hide.

Edric and Gendry were looking at each other now with great interest, sizing each other up. Edric must remember Gendry's face if he read magazines or watched E! News or was in any way connected to the gossip that surrounded their daily lives. And Gendry must know who Edric was, if he read the newspapers and magazines, which Arya knew he did since that was how he recognized  _her_  the first time they met. Arya looked back and forth between the two of them, feeling suddenly as if she was a wife caught in the arms of her lover while her husband saw the affair happening right before her eyes. But Gendry was not her husband and Edric was not her lover and it was stupid to think that way.

"Hi, Gendry."

"What are you up to?"

"Just. . .out with Edric." Arya indicated Edric with her hand. "Edric Dayne, this is Gendry Waters. Gendry, this is Edric."

No response. Not even a glance in his direction that showed he acknowledged his presence. "I didn't know you had a date tonight."

The word gives her a start. She  _hates_  that word. Date. In a desperate attempt to avoid answering, Arya considers going on a five-minute rant with supporting ideas and theories that proves why the word date is a stupid word that should never have been invented to describe a night where two people go out. But Gendry was staring at her in that weird impassive way of his and she felt pressured to give a real answer even though he hadn't even asked a question.

"Um, well, yeah. . .I did. Do," she corrected herself at the last minute, fearing to look over at Edric and see his expression. Arya simply stares at the ground, the black of the night distorting her image of the sidewalk but keeping her gaze firm and unwavering. If she looked at either of them, she'd start rambling about how this wasn't her fault. Even though she didn't even know what  _this_  was, and there wasn't anything to apologize for.

So why did she feel so guilty? Arya wondered about that as Edric asked Gendry something in a polite yet detached voice that only socialites who were skilled at conversing with people they dislike have mastered.

It took another few minutes of awkward silence filled with even more awkward statements and questions for Arya to finally disengage herself and Edric from this pathetic excuse at conversation with Gendry and went on her way, going farther down the street as Gendry passed them alone, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. Arya didn't bring it up as she and Edric continued on their walk, and only spoke when she mentioned the late hour. He led her back to the restaurant and got in the car, driving her home and leaving the night on what Arya suspected was a very sour and not at all pleasant note.

. . .

**ARYA STARK MAKING HER WAY THROUGH THE BACHELORS OF NEW YORK**

_It's hardly been a month since the engagement part of Sansa Stark (22) and Joffrey Baratheon (22), and it's hardly been a month since we, along with everyone else, started to speculate about the relationship status of Arya Stark (19), who has remained suspiciously single throughout her life, when she arrived to the party with her family. . .and a date named Gendry Waters (24), a working-class mechanic who lives in Brooklyn. Since then, everyone's been raving about these two and the possible relationship they seem to be in. And the conflicts that seemed to arise along with said relationship, including social status difference and money issues, and a five-year age gap that worries not only us but the rest of New York. And, we're positive about this, Arya's family!_

_While neither party has agreed to comment on this relationship (though Arya did have some choice words for a few reporters and journalists about her relationship status a few weeks ago which we covered on our website), their actions definitely speak louder than words. Ever since this engagement party, they've either been flaunting their hanging out together or ignoring each other's presence. For the first time in almost two weeks, Arya and Gendry had been spotted together in a local coffee shop in Manhattan, probably catching a moment alone together while he was off of work and she found a space in her busy schedule of college and dance to see him again. Ever since then, though, we haven't really seen them together. We have, however, spotted Arya with another boy on her arm, someone whose name will be met with much familiarity: Edric Dayne._

_The Dayne family has a long line of hotels, clubs, and restaurants under their belts. They also have good looks, charm, and natural charisma running through their genes. And apparently Edric Dayne (21) has decided to use those attributes to woo Arya Stark despite her questionable relationship status. What could be even more shocking than this, though? The fact that Arya agreed to go on a date with him, and were spotted last Friday night at one of the Dayne restaurants and continued on a walk through Manhattan after dinner until he dropped her off at her home and drove away._

_The entire situation is confusing at best, scandalous and socially degrading at worst. Is Arya Stark really trying to play the field? Is she trying to send a message to her family saying that she'll remain her regular rebellious self by continuing to see Gendry, but keeping up appearances for everyone else, including the cameras, by dating Edric Dayne? That's a huge risk for her to take in our very humble opinion, especially because her life, along with her whole family's, is always under scrutiny. For a girl who's lived her whole life staring a camera lens in the face, she can't expect this plan of hers to be smooth sailing all the way. And what will happen when her brother Robb's wedding draws closer each day? Who will she bring as her date? Edric Dayne, the boy society has deemed appropriate and expects her to bring along, or Gendry Waters, the man she initially had a spark with?_

_We're going to be on this story 24/7, as usual, for your convenience. Don't think that a single step Arya Stark takes will be unseen. We promise that we'll be the first to tell you if she's chosen indecency or purity as her path in life._

. . .

Arya loved bachelorette parties. She really did. But when they were being thrown for your oldest brother's fiancee, Arya felt rather uncomfortable. Especially when the stripper decided to tear off his pants right in front of Jeyne's face.

Arya blushed bright red at the sight, and the only person looking even more scandalized was Jeyne herself. Arya was shocked at herself. She had always been brazen and blunt about things, but. . .this was her  _brother's fiancee_. He would be marrying her soon, and a stripper was currently grinding against Jeyne's leg erotically. In all honesty, it was a bit funny.

And so the night continued on in a haze of alcohol Arya snuck past Sansa's watchful glare and loud music pumping through large speakers.

By the time it was time to exchange presents, it was only nearing eleven and Arya was getting tipsy.

"This is really a great bachelorette party," Jeyne commented to no one in particular.

And it was. Sansa, the maid of honor, had really planned it perfectly. She'd rented out the roof of one of the more upscale and classier nightclubs set deep into the Upper East Side and strung twinkly lights around the speakers. It was small and wonderfully simple, as Jeyne didn't want a big bachelorette party and Sansa did her best to heed her request.

Jeyne picked up her first gift, from Sansa. Inside the box was a set of white lacy lingerie, complete with a brassiere and matching underwear, lace stockings, and garter belts.

Arya had gotten her a white silk bathrobe that she had gotten personally stitched with Jeyne's name on the back, with the stark name underneath, deeming it appropriate for a wedding present.

Presents for the bride to be followed the general theme of white, claiming virginity and purity, but Arya secretly thought the exact opposite of Robb and Jeyne's relationship if she recalled secret meetings in the early stages of their relationship correctly. Her room was right in the middle of Robb and Sansa's, and she definitely heard enough of Robb's terms of endearments for Jeyne while they were in bed to last her a lifetime.

She fought the urge to say it, as she often suffered from a rather loose tongue while intoxicated.

Arya settled on one of the white lounges Sansa had hired people to carry up to the roof and ate one of the chocolate cupcakes the cooks had baked earlier that morning while she held a bottle of beer in her other hand.

Soon, Sansa collapsed next to her. "I think Jeyne's going to be very happy with Robb, don't you think?" she asked, her eyes bright with the alcohol she herself had consumed, and her red hair was looking a bit frazzled.

Arya's mind went back to overhearing Robb and Jeyne together at night, and couldn't help but agree. "Yeah, they'll be alright," she said fondly, smiling faintly.

Margaery appeared on Arya's other side next. "So," she said, obviously drunker than anybody else there that night, "what's going on with your wedding, Sansa?"

Sansa blushed, as if the topic of her wedding embarrassed her or made her nervous. Arya couldn't believe the image Sansa put forward, and instead did her best to tune out the oncoming conversation. Even at somebody else's bachelorette party, Sansa's own wedding was the main topic of conversation.

"It's going to happen, obviously. And I want a June wedding, since that's the month rain happens the least in New York."

"What about a location?"

"No idea as of yet." Sansa's voice hitched a bit at the end in a way that made Arya, unable to ignore the voices of the girls on either side of her, wonder if Joffrey had shut down any, or more likely,  _all_ , of her ideas for locations.

After the party had dragged on for a few hours and Meera, Bran's girlfriend of five months who had inserted herself into the welcoming arms of the group, had declared herself too tired to continue and was the first to leave the party, it was already half past one in the morning. At eighteen, she wasn't legal to drink. But unlike Arya, who was a year older than her but still not legal yet, she actually lived by this law for the night and hadn't touched any kind of alcohol.

Arya asked Meera to drive her home, and she agreed. Of all the Stark siblings, Meera had worked for Arya's approval the hardest when Bran had introduced her to the family a month after he said he had a girlfriend. Now, though, she seemed to have warmed up to her.

In the car, Meera rolled down the windows and rested her elbow on the empty gap, running her fingers through her hair. "How'd you like the party?"

Arya shrugged. "I liked it. It was a lot of fun."

Meera smiled. "I did, too. Jeyne seemed to like my gift."

Meera's gift to Jeyne had been the most reserved. As the youngest in the group, she hadn't thrown all caution and propriety out the window like Margaery had with her package of three different vibrators, and she hadn't walked the line of classy and sexy like Arya and Sansa had with their sets of wedding night bridal wear. Instead, she had gotten her an assortment of perfumes and lotions, all light and sweet scents that managed to be catching and subtle all at once. It was a nice gift, and Jeyne had smiled in relief when she opened it, glad that she hadn't opened up a package to reveal some kind of weird sex toy that would make her feel as awkward as Margaery had. Arya, too, felt grateful to see that Bran's girlfriend was classy and reserved, untouched by the scandals that life in Manhattan came with.

As they continued to drive down the roads, Arya felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. Her eyelids felt heavy and she had the distinct feeling of her mind trying to press into itself. She leaned her head against the passenger side's window, which she had pulled up when the wind started blowing her hair in her face, and looked out at the buildings passing her by.

A lone figure caught her attention, walking into a small bar by himself with his head down and his hands in his pockets.

"Stop over here," Arya instructed Meera, her head snapping up as she squinted her eyes at the person walking. He was on the opposite side of the street as they were, but Arya would run over.

Meera stopped the car and pulled over, glancing over at Arya and where her gaze was now fixed. She bit her lip, fearing for her friend's intoxicated state, but Arya simply waved her concern away when Meera voiced it.

"If Sansa asks, I met up with a friend on the way." It wasn't totally untrue, Arya resolved as she kissed Meera on the cheek and slid out of the car.

Stepping inside the bar, Arya felt instantly warmer. The night air was chilly that night, and the cozy atmosphere of the bar was greatly welcomed by Arya.

"Hey, Gendry," Arya said casually as she sat down in the booth across from him, dropping her bag next to her and crossing her legs. Her flashy outfit wasn't lost on the eyes of the few patrons in the bar, and more than one pair of eyes lingered on her legs that were exposed from the pair of sheer black tights she'd worn underneath her short and sparkly low-waisted black skirt that she had paired with a black short-sleeved crop top that left her entire midsection bare. Her tall heels clicked on the floor beneath her as she made her way to Gendry.

"Arya?" Gendry asked, confusion mingling in his tone.

Arya gave him a sly smirk with a quirk of her eyebrows. He already had a beer in front of him, and from the looks of it, he had already had a quarter of its contents. Arya signaled for the bartender to bring her a beer of her own despite her own tipsiness that was bordering on drunkenness and turned back to her friend. "Surprised to see me?"

"I thought you had a bachelorette party tonight?"

Arya shrugged. "I did. It's over now. I saw you while my friend drove me home."

"Why didn't you just go home?"

"Is it a crime to want to see my friend?" she asked, feigning hurt.

Gendry rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for her games and wordplay tonight. "What do you really want, Arya?" he asked. "You had a bachelorette party tonight. You had a date last week. You ran into me on both nights, but you couldn't be bothered to visit me in the days in between."

Now real hurt shone through her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as the bartender set a beer in front of her.

Gendry shrugged, showing false indifference as he looked away from her and instead payed more attention to his beer, taking a longer sip than necessary and fighting the urge to cough when he finally let go.

"The papers stopped making articles about us."

Arya recalled the last article she'd seen, after her date with Edric Dayne, and nodded. "It's good that it's finally dying down."

Gendry nodded in agreement, and an awkward silence followed. Arya had never understood when books described 'A loud silence', but for the first, time she thought she had it down.

She felt the pressure nagging at her to say something, to fill the silence that had separated them. She wanted to speak but words clogged in her throat and she couldn't hear anything over the sounds of words desperately trying to get out of her own mind, swimming around and around in head as they tried to form coherent sentences but only managed to get even more jumbled and inconsistent.

They continued to drink in silence, the thick air and awkward quietness surrounding them only punctured by the sounds of their bottles hitting the table as they finished them off one by one.

Arya began to descend into dangerously drunk territory. She had been sober at the beginning of the night but got giddy around the middle of the bachelorette party and now, sitting here with Gendry as she set down her third beer bottle, she was well and truly hammered.

Arya glanced at Gendry from under her lashes, cocking her head to the side. Under the guise of alcohol, she could study him without shame or question. She had nothing to hide when she was drunk. So she studied the planes of his face, the sharp edges of his jawline and the startlingly bright shade of blue of his eyes. She felt her fingers twitch, longing to lose themselves in his thick black hair.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" she asked suddenly.

Gendry just looked at her over the rim of his beer bottle and shrugged again. "Sure, why not?"

They hailed a cab easily, the sight of Arya in her short fitted skirt and crop top and heels attracting the attention of the driver. Gendry's appearance next to her seemed to give him the impression that they were in a hurry to go somewhere more private, so he pulled over to the curb and let them stumble in, Arya giggling a little as she fell into the seat.

She gave the address of her building and sat back in the seat, turning back to Gendry and smiling softly as she looked him over.

He didn't look at her for the entirety of the ride, but he could feel her watching him, feel the intensity of her eyes on his face, wild and passionate even while hazy and disoriented.

When they pulled up to Arya's building, she got out and passed him a few twenties. She grabbed Gendry's wrist in her hand and dragged him out after her, ignoring his protests and claims that he needed to get home.

"Shut up," she said. "I've known you for a few months and you haven't ever been to my house. So come on." She led him into the lobby, giving a nod to her doorman and walking past the desk to their elevator.

"You have a private elevator?" Gendry asked incredulously.

Arya nodded as if it was no big deal, feeling her throat close up suddenly.

When they got into the elevator, Gendry turned to look at her instead.

She was wild tonight, a force of nature. Her long hair was messy and disheveled, her outfit both rebellious and beautiful all at once, just like her. Her thick eyeliner and bright red lipstick stood out on her face and her hair was tangling in her hoops.

Gendry had always thought Arya was beautiful. The first time he'd seen her was on TV. She had been at some charity ball and she had been wearing a pretty white dress and she had been  _beautiful_. The impression she gave off in interviews and on camera was so startlingly different from that first image he had of her, it was almost laughable. And when he'd first came face to face with her. . .it hadn't even compared. She was gorgeous up close and in real life.

Gendry was disturbed to realize he had been leaning towards her unsuspecting figure.

He was even more disturbed to find that he had been trying to kiss her.

When they got off the elevator, Arya led him down the small hallway that led to their front door and opened it, fumbling slightly with her keys. "I don't know if anyone's home," she said in an offhand kind of voice, trying to settle her nerves. It wasn't like she was a teenager sneaking her boyfriend into her room on a school night. For God's sake, she was nineteen and in college! She could damn well bring whoever she wanted into her room.

But she didn't bring him into her room, not at first. Her own nerves wouldn't allow it.

Her suspicions were correct as she went through the house and realized no one was home. Her parents had mentioned some kind of event they had to be present for, and spending the night with Robert and Cersei afterward. Sansa was probably either still with Jeyne or already sleeping at Margaery, which she'd planned to do that night. Robb was at his own bachelor party. Bran was currently trying to sneak over to Meera's house, as Bran had warned Arya the night before and asked her to cover for him, and Rickon was sleeping over a friend's house. Jon himself was suspiciously out of the house, and she had no idea where he might be.

So while Arya showed Gendry the three floors of her home, she felt hypersensitive and all too aware of everything around her. This house was empty and she had Gendry in it with her.

"So what's going on with you and Edric?" Gendry asked with faux lightheartedness as he glanced around her spacious library. He fingered the spine of one of the books on the shelves, avoiding her gaze.

"He's, um. . .a friend. My mom wanted me to go out with him, so I agreed for a night."

"Oh." Gendry nodded slowly, processing this information. "And are you. . .still seeing him?"

Arya took a step closer to him, arms folded over her chest as she basically pushed herself against his front. "No."

Gendry nodded once again, feeling repetitive and thought to himself that he really shouldn't be thinking of that when Arya was leaning up towards him. "That's—"

She kissed him. And it wasn't gentle or rough, slow or rushed. It just  _was_. It was awkward at first due to the suddenness and spontaneity of the action, but Gendry quickly recovered of shock.

His hands went to her waist, feeling bare skin against his fingers. His entire body immediately softened, feeling himself literally fall into the kiss as Arya reached up and wound her arms around his neck, dragging him down so they could make up for the tragic height difference between the two of them. Gendry pulled her against his chest suddenly, causing her to gasp into his mouth and he took full advantage, intertwining his tongue with hers as she forced her mouth open with his lips.

Gendry thought back to the limo ride going to the engagement party and how Jon and Robb had tried their best to include him for their younger sister's sake. If they heard the thoughts running through his head as his lips continued to dance with Arya's in a fast and sensual pace, they'd definitely regret their kindness and come after him with baseball bats.

He felt even more troubled as Arya clasped her arms tighter around his neck and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him harder than before, her lips meeting his once again and setting a furious pace that had Gendry going weak in the knees. He rushed to grab her under her thighs to support her but refusing to let her lips go.

"Your brothers—"

"Shut up."

"They'll kill me."

"So don't say anything."

" _Arya_ ," Gendry pushed forward urgently even as he ran his hands down her exposed back, barely even stumbling as he hit the rough material of her skirt and his hand skidded over the curve of her backside.

"No," Arya hushed him, going after his mouth once again and really, who was he to complain? If this was his last night on earth, Gendry thought, this was likely the best way to go.

His fingers fought the urge to rip the zipper of her skirt down and chuck the rest of her clothes in the corner of the library and take her right there. But he couldn't, because this was the library of her house and it was two in the morning and he just  _couldn't_. Excuses piled on top of each other in his brain but they each seemed to pop into thin air, disappearing as Arya slid down his body, landing on the floor and tangling his fingers with hers as she led him to her room.

Something that personal should have unnerved her, disturbed her, even. Her room was her personal haven, a place where no one was allowed to enter without her permission. Only Jon and Ned had been allowed to walk in whenever they wanted, and even they felt it proper to knock and wait for her approval before coming in. She barely let Gendry get a look at her room, though. She was on him within seconds of entering her room, kissing him again with more familiarity than before, tracing the edges of his lips with her tongue and sighing his name against his mouth quietly, a brush of air against him.

Gendry stumbled backwards, his knees hitting the edge of her bed. He picked her up again, his hands finding purchase on her hips, and set her down on the bed. His hands ran over her covered legs, nails itching to dig themselves into the stockings and rip the thin material so he could see her. Underneath the heat of his hands, Arya tensed under him, her leg muscles locking up noticeably. Feeling it under his hands, he looked up at her and saw her eyes were hazy and unfocused.

"Arya," he sighed, exhaling her name heavily.

Arya nodded slowly, crossing her legs. Gendry averted his eyes from the amount of skin she bared to him by that simple action.

"I'll get a cab."

Arya stood up, feeling a headache start to force itself in her mind, pulsing repetitively. "Maybe another time, when I'm not too drunk and you're not too chivalrous."

The words left Gendry feeling insatiable, heat crawling over his neck. He couldn't help it, he shoved her against the wall of her bedroom and kissed her again rakishly, his lips leaving her own feeling bruised and wanting for more.

She didn't follow him out of her room. She didn't say goodbye. She just crawled into bed with her clothes still on and closed her eyes effortlessly, feeling as if she took them off, she'd take off the feeling of Gendry's hands that were still lingering on her covered legs, her backside, the bare skin of her back and abdomen.

Gendry walked out of her room and walked down the stairs, shutting the front door behind him carefully and taking the elevator down to the lobby. The doorman was still there, and he stared as Gendry walked out of the building without so much as a glance in his direction. He hailed a cab for himself and got in, eyes closing without his permission.

"Hey," the driver said suddenly, causing Gendry to open his eyes. "You know the Stark family lives here?"

Gendry snorted quietly, looking up at the top floor where he knew Arya was probably sleeping by now, still feeling traces of her lips against his skin. "Yeah," he sad dazedly, "I know."


	11. To Be Young And In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally supposed to be two separate chapters, with chapter eleven ending after Jon's talk and Arya leaving, and chapter twelve basically having everything that followed after. But when I started writing chapter twelve, I realized that my outline for chapter twelve didn't give me enough details for a whole chapter (it only had like 1k words or something like that) so I added it to the end of chapter eleven aka this one. Which means this story will most likely be one chapter less now, unless I split up a chapter later on. But I'll have to look at my outline because I have it split up into all the chapters I've planned on.
> 
> For now, though, enjoy!

"So there's a wedding."

" _Arya_."

"And you have to come."

"No."

"It's my  _brother's wedding_. And it's in  _two days_."

"I don't want to go."

"But you have to."

"Why?"

"Because I need a date and I don't have anyone to consider except for you."

"Wow. That was so beautifully poetic. I think I'm falling in love right now."

"Shut up."

"That's the way to convince me to come."

"I've already told Jon to drop off the suit you borrowed for the engagement party, so. . . ."

"You knew you'd break me, didn't you."

"I'll pick you up at six thirty."

" _Arya!_ "

"Bye, Gendry."

. . .

Only Arya could handle a post-hookup encounter with so much grace and incredible indifference. It had already been one day. How much time would people need to recover from that?

Standing in front of the mirror of the holding room at the hotel as she carefully dressed herself, she thought about this. When she had woken up the morning after the bachelorette party, and after Gendry had left her, claiming they were too drunk to kiss properly, she had felt disoriented and out of her element. Her hair was a mess, she was still wearing her clothes from the night before, pantyhose and shoes and all, her makeup that she had neglected to take off was smudged across her eyes and lips, and her mouth was dry. But after brushing her teeth and taking a very long shower, Arya remembered everything about Gendry, including how his lips had felt against hers as he lifted her effortlessly, how his hands had ran down the skin of her back and traced her legs when he had thrown her on the bed after they had left the library. She couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the morning.

Of course, to pursue a relationship with Gendry would be idiotic and stupid. He was five years older than her.

And she didn't really feel like proving the paparazzi right about their relationship.

Selfish? Maybe. But she didn't care. She didn't  _want_  to be in a relationship with Gendry. So what if she was attracted to him, constantly finding excuses to stare at him and making up some stupid reason for her actions when he caught her? So what if she couldn't keep the smile from her face when she'd woken up?

She didn't want to be involved with Gendry Waters, and that was the most she would say about the subject.

Arya's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a small knock on her door. She uttered a quick "Come in!" and smoothed down the folds of the bridesmaid dress that Jeyne had picked out.

It was knee-length and a shimmering color of gold that reflected off the light when the light caught it at odd angles. One of the sleeves was draped down her shoulder and the other was a spaghetti strap that held up the rest of the dress. The bodice was tight and fitted and flowed out into a swishy kind of skirt that flew out around her like an upside down teacup when she spun in a circle.

Jeyne entered the hotel room Arya had to herself, looking jumpy and scared. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, with no makeup on and her hair tied up in the messiest bun Arya had ever seen. In her hands, she held a black bag.

"I know that Sansa's my maid of honor," Jeyne began quickly, "but I couldn't deal with the thought of her wedding talk this morning. It's too much." She held out the bag. "Could you help me get ready?"

Arya felt a sense of pride and a lot of emotion well up inside her. God forbid she start crying, or her makeup would be ruined and the sight of tears this morning would probably make Jeyne feel too overwhelmed and she'd end up shutting herself in her room.

So Arya swallowed her tears and took the bag from Jeyne, unzipping it to reveal her wedding dress.

She'd seen it a hundred times before, had even been there when Jeyne picked it out, but the sight of the dress on the day she was marrying her brother made Arya want to cry all over again. It was a stunningly flawless white, with a sweetheart neckline and a plain long bodice that elongated down into a simple floor-length skirt that hugged her legs comfortably. The left side of the skirt was gathered up to the right and pinned at the right side of her waist with a jeweled brooch and gave the effect of draped curtains.

She helped Jeyne into the dress and fastened the fifty pearl buttons up her back, her fingers aching and tingling when she was done. She helped her slide into the tall white heels, feeling sorry for the amount of pain she was going to feel throughout the night.

Once Jeyne was settled into her dress, Arya unclipped her hair from the messy bun and called Sansa in to help with the hair and makeup.

Sansa appeared in the doorway, looking radiant in a dress similar to Arya's, but hers was longer and a different, less shiny shade of gold.

She began to weave Jeyne's hair in different braids, pinning them in what looked to Arya like random places but were probably artfully placed in the exact position Sansa wanted them to be. When she was done with her hair and it rested on the back of Jeyne's neck in a low elegant twist, she started on her makeup.

Arya watched the process from the small chaise lounge in the room, draping herself over it casually and playing with her phone. She had texted Gendry to start getting ready around four and to be ready for them to pick him up by six thirty. It was past four by the time Jeyne and Sansa were done getting ready, and by the time five o' clock rolled around, Margaery was knocking on the door, wearing the same dress as Arya as was customary for bridesmaids.

She looked even prettier than Sansa with her makeup applied lightly and her hair flowing loose and wavy down her back. Arya was used to seeing Margaery wearing dramatic makeup, her hair always done up in some new experimental style and her clothes edgy and eye-catching. Now, she looked practically angelic, the picture of innocence even though everyone knew she was anything but.

"Where's the bride?" Margaery asked as she waltzed into the dining room.

Jeyne looked over at Margaery, fiddling with the cap on her water bottle. "Hi, Margaery." Her voice was hoarse from nerves.

Margaery hugged Jeyne carefully. "You look beautiful," she said sincerely.

"Thanks, Margaery," Jeyne said quietly.

Arya checked the time once again. "Don't sound so excited," she said sarcastically. "It's only your wedding day. The day you're united in holy matrimony to my older brother, the love of your life."

Sansa gave her a withering look behind Jeyne's back, but Jeyne just smiled, already used to the bluntness of Arya's usual tone. She clearly took no offense when Arya gave her a comment.

"Have you eaten?" Margaery asked her, glancing wearily at the spotless dress.

Jeyne nodded, jerking her head to the silver platter of finger sandwiches they'd ordered before once they had finished getting ready. Arya, feeling too wound up to sit still any longer, stood up. "I think I'm going to pick up Gendry now," she announced, trading her high heels for a pair of flats for the car ride to the shop. Sansa opened her mouth to say something, probably to tell her it was only half past five and it was too soon, but she was already out the door.

. . .

"You look. . .very nice."

Arya turned to face Gendry, who was trying to keep up with her pace behind her, and smiled. "Thank you. You look good, too."

The car ride to the shop had been nerve-wracking, to say the least. Arya had been practically bouncing in her seat the entire time, and when she saw Gendry walking out the door as soon as she texted him she was there, her breath caught in her throat. She'd seen him in this suit before, but ever since the kiss, she'd become even more aware of Gendry's very presence. And the ride back to the hotel was awkward at best. It was the first time he'd said anything to her since he'd gotten into her car.

"The wedding's going to start at seven thirty, and it's already six thirty" Arya informed him as she made her way to the elevator and pressed her floor number. "And after the ceremony, we're going to go down to the reception. I'm pretty sure everyone is ready, so all that's left is pictures."

Gendry could hardly keep up. He'd never been to a wedding before. And now he was going as Arya Stark's date. He wondered who she would be walking down the aisle with during the ceremony with.

Arya led him up to her room, which was mercifully empty. She guessed Jeyne, Sansa, and Margaery had disappeared back to one of their rooms or to prepare everyone for pictures. Arya took off her flats and prepared her heels for the night, glancing at them distastefully. Gendry stood in her doorway, uncomfortable in his own skin and unsure what he should be doing.

Arya looked over at him. "Are you just going to stand there until the ceremony?" she asked.

Gendry's mouth opened and closed. Even while looking pristine and delicate in her fragile dress and her pretty makeup, she still managed to make him think himself an idiotic fool.

"Look," Arya sighed, sitting down on the bed. "I know you're out of your element here. But if you hadn't wanted to come, you would have fought a lot harder to say no. I know it. So you better suck it up, because I have to be down there soon."

"What am I going to be doing until the ceremony?" Gendry asked, his voice hoarse.

At this, Arya looked apologetic. "I couldn't get Cat or Sansa to let you into the pictures. I'm sorry. And you aren't apart of the wedding party, either, so I won't be marching with you. After I finish with the pictures, I'll come back up here to get you so I can walk you down to the room where it'll happen. Until then, you can do whatever you want, really."

Gendry was secretly relieved that he wouldn't have to face Arya's family again just yet. He thought of her kisses, how she had responded to him so fully and how she had let him touch her, run his hands over her exposed skin. . .he took a deep and calming breath, steadying himself as he walked inside the room and took a seat in one of the chairs. Yes, it was very good that he wouldn't be seeing Arya's family again until later.

. . .

When Jeyne walked down the aisle, Gendry supposed she looked beautiful. But he thought Arya looked radiant.

He'd known she was a bit prickly. He was aware that she was sarcastic and blunt, sometimes even crossing the line and delving right into rude. But everyone knew Arya held a soft spot for her family.

So when she walked down the aisle with a man Gendry didn't know or recognize on her arm, she had the brightest smile he'd ever seen painted across her lips as she looked at Robb with giddiness dancing in her eyes.

And Gendry could have sworn he fell in love with her smile.

Vows were exchanged and Jeyne and Robb kissed in a manner that suggested passion lingering beneath the sweet touch. Gendry looked towards Arya and was shocked to find that unshed tears were brightening her eyes, that same smile on her face throughout the whole ceremony.

By the time Arya had stepped off the dais, Gendry was feeling lost and confused in the sea of people that were already rushing to go to the room for the reception. But she found him soon enough, taking his arm in hers and leading him out the room, unable to stop the bounce in her step.

At the reception, Arya doesn't even sit down to eat. She just takes his hand and leads him on to the dance floor. "I can't dance," Gendry tells her, but she snorts and shrugs. "Neither can I," she says.

And it's her carelessness, her disregard for whoever may be watching them make a fool of themselves, because her happiness is clouding out everything else in the world, that makes him grip her hand even tighter against his and walk on to the dance floor with Arya walking beside him.

They dance a slow song, with her arms wrapped around his neck and her head buried in his shoulder and his arms wound loosely around her waist. They don't move much, they just simply sway from side to side, but it's enough. The closeness is enough. Gendry leans down so his chin is resting on top of her head, and he marvels at the height difference between them. She barely comes up to his shoulder, just brushing his chest. She's so small, and she looks so delicate and fragile, as if she might break if he held her too tightly. But Gendry knows that she has a lot more fire beneath the surface, so he doesn't bother with gentleness when it comes to her anymore.

. . .

Hours later, Gendry was playing with the stem of his tall champagne glass when Jon sidled up next to him and sat down in the seat that Arya had just vacated. Gendry's eyes flickered over to where Arya was walking away from their table, her back to him and her skirt swaying slightly with the movements of her legs. He looked back at Jon and immediately felt as if he was taking part in an inquisition.

He felt his throat close up and his palms start to sweat.

The thing about feeling guilty, Gendry realized, was that he felt everyone could see right through him. He felt as if everyone would be able to witness the images of Arya's legs in those stockings and that skirt as she wrapped them around his waist while kissing him back.

He wanted to die.

"I wanted to tell you thank you," Jon said, and Gendry's eyebrows shot up higher on his forehead. "You know, for being here tonight. Arya didn't have a date and she didn't really want to take Edric. Or anybody, really. So you being here just really helps. If she had been alone, she would have been miserable the whole night, and on the night of her brother's wedding, well. . .she shouldn't be miserable, should she? And look at her." Jon jerked his head to Arya, where she was currently dancing with Margaery and Jeyne on the dance floor, her hair coming loose from her intricate braid and falling around her face. But she was smiling and laughing and it was probably the happiest Gendry had ever seen her. "She looks like she's having the night of her life. And it may not seem like much, but it's probably because a friend was there for her so the papers wouldn't make a big deal about she had come alone tonight."

Gendry didn't trust himself to speak. And he was sitting there, staring at Jon with a look on his face that probably said "Why are you being so nice to me when I almost had sex with your sister a few days ago?"

In the end, he cleared his throat roughly and forced out a quick thanks. "Anything I can do to help," Gendry said hoarsely, his throat feeling raw and scratchy as the words came out.

Jon's face changed, turning very serious all of a sudden, and Gendry thought to himself  _This is it._

"But. . .there's still a five year age gap between the two of you. And I'm not opposed to the two of you being friends. Because I can't remember the last time Arya had a real friend who Catelyn hadn't forced on her or who was just talking to her because she was rich and famous here. And she really likes you, and she likes hanging out with you. So I won't go all protective big brother on you for being her friend. But if I ever hear or god forbid  _see_  that you touched my baby sister in a more than platonic way, I will not hesitate to straighten out the issue. I'm grateful for what you're doing for her, and what you're enduring because of her because believe me, I've read the articles those stupid journalists and gossip columnists have written about you and her being together. But she's nineteen and she's mature for her age but she's still nineteen and you're still twenty-four."

Gendry hoped Jon was done because he felt like if he continued talking, he would admit to everything. But it wasn't as if he had just kissed Arya to kiss her or to play with her mind because she was five years younger than him. It was because he liked her and he was interested in her and he wanted to  _know_  her, know her like her brothers knew her and her father knew her. He wanted to do other things with her that didn't involve roaming hands or lips touching. He just wanted Arya.

But Jon was looking at him with an expression that clearly showed he was waiting for him to speak.

"You don't have to worry about that," Gendry said quickly. "Arya's my friend. Nothing more. I swear."

Jon nodded once, a clear sign that their conversation was over and walked past Gendry. "Hey, Arya," he said casually as he walked, and Gendry felt his heart drop into his stomach like a stone.

He turned around slowly, scared of what he'd find there.

And Arya was staring at him with wide eyes, her brow furrowed and her arms folded across her chest in disappointment and anger.

"Arya," Gendry began, his hand twitching as if to reach out to her.

She just turned and walked away.

. . .

"Are you okay?"

Arya turned around, her eyebrows raised and her expression bordering on indifference and boredom. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm sorry about what I said back in there."

"It's no big deal. It's the truth, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

Arya rolled her eyes and turned back around, leaning over the balcony and wrapping her shawl tighter around her.

"Arya." Gendry waited for her to turn back around to face him before speaking again. "I'm really sorry about what I said to Jon in there. If I had known you were there, and if I had known you would get so upset. . ."

"What would you have done?" Arya asked in a mocking tone. "You would have admitted to the fact that you already touched me in a 'more than platonic' kind of way?" she asked, repeating Jon's earlier words.

"Maybe!" Gendry blurted out, raising his voice. He immediately looked around to make sure no one heard him shout and then stepped towards Arya, his voice a pitch lower. "No. I wouldn't have. But I'm still sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not even sure I like you in  _any_  way!" Arya said, her own voice rising a bit. "You're annoying and infuriating and you're  _stupidly_  stubborn." Even Gendry could tell she was being sarcastic and she didn't really mean the words she was saying. She was just trying to take his mind away from the possibility that she actually  _liked_  him. "I don't even want to date you! I mean, the only reason I was even upset before at the reception was because Jon doesn't think I'm mature enough to make my own choices, and he thinks he has to have a whole talk with my male friends about how protective he is over me. And because everybody always says I'm too  _boyish_  to get anyone to like me. So it really has nothing to do with you, it's all Jon's fault."

Gendry leaned over and kissed her.

Arya made a little squeak in the back of her throat and squeezed her eyes shut, shocked at his kiss.

Gendry leaned back after a few seconds, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look him in the eye. "I think of you as a girl, if it makes you feel any better," he assured her.

It did, but she'd die before admitting that to him.

. . .

Later that night, as Arya sat at one of the barstools with her legs crossed and a glass of champagne in her hand, Gendry approached her cautiously.

"I think I might head off," he said, leaning his elbow against the high bar counter. Arya swung her ankle back and forth, casting her eyes across the rest of the reception area. Jeyne and Robb were swaying side to side in the middle of the dance floor, the only two people still dancing. Her arms were around his neck and his were around her waist. Her head was against his chest and he was looking down at her like the happiest man alive. "It's already past two. I should get back home."

Arya nodded, swirling the remaining champagne in her glass and drained it in one swallow. "Okay. Everyone else is leaving now, too. I think only the wedding party and family members are staying until the very end." She passed her glass to the bartender, who was wiping off empty glasses, and motioned for him to refill it.

"I had a really nice time tonight, Arya," Gendry said. He was standing awkwardly against the counter top, wondering if he should hug her or not. Arya made the choice for him, though, as she took his wrist in her hand and pulled him towards her for a hug, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He let o of her after a few seconds, redness running up his neck and across his cheeks. "Thank you for inviting me."

"I'll pass that on to Robb and Jeyne later on tonight if you don't want to interrupt them." Arya looked over at her brother and his new wife, peace settling over her face as she watched the two of them dancing together. "I wouldn't want to. They look really happy right now in their own little bubble." There was a note of wistfulness in her voice as she said it, and it made Gendry look away from her out of nervousness.

When Arya got her refilled champagne glass in her hand, Gendry gave her one last goodbye before walking away, giving a few last shy smiles to the guests who had bothered to remember who he was.

Arya watched him go until he was out of the door, and then turned back to face the bartender, sighing heavily as she took another long sip from her glass.

"Arya."

Arya turned around, looking at her father as he approached her by the bar. For a moment, she thought he was going to reprimand her for drinking so much champagne tonight (She hadn't even had that much, anyway!) but his face and body language clearly stated that wasn't the case. He barely even gave the glass in her hand a passing glance. His expression was worried at best, tortured at worst. Arya was scared to ask what was wrong with him tonight, especially on the night of his oldest son's wedding, but she didn't want to hear it. She had a feeling that whatever Ned was about to say was going to be bad, and it was going to ruin such a good night.

"What's up, Dad?" she said nervously.

"Who are Gendry's parents?" he asked.

Arya was taken aback. "He. . .his mother died when he was a kid. And he never knew his father." She paused. "Why?"

"Because. . ." Ned closed his eyes, letting out air through his nose. "Because I think Gendry might be Robert Baratheon's son."


	12. Talk Of The Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block plagued me so hard throughout this chapter. It took me a whole week and I hated every second of it, I'm not even kidding. But I just finished work yesterday so I'm going to be able to spend a lot more time with my story from now on. I'm thinking it might be over a little after September, with about 20 chapters left. If you don't follow me on tumblr, you should, and don't forget to message me there if you're interested in being my beta reader for the rest of this story.
> 
> Props to songs Derech Hashalom, Terminal 3, and Tel Aviv for getting me through this chapter. I wrote and wrote and wrote for a week straight before proofreading what I had this morning, hating it all, and deleting it so I could start over and these three songs on a loop got me through it.

"Arya."

"Go away."

Ned sighed and knocked on the door even louder again. "Arya, open the door right now. We need to talk."

"No we don't."

Ned tried to open the door but it was locked. "Arya. Open up."

There was a brief pause before the door opened and Arya popped her head out. "I don't want to talk to you. Go away." And the door shut once again.

"Arya!" Ned was shocked; he knew the revelation was a big one, but he couldn't  _not_  tell her. If it was true, and the news had broken out without her knowledge, Arya would be even more furious at him for not telling her earlier.

It was impossible to please his daughters.

Either of them.

Inside her room, Arya was sitting on her bed with her knees tucked up under her chin as she stared at her phone sitting in front of her with such contempt you'd think it personally offended her.

She needed to call Gendry.

But she couldn't.

It had been roughly twelve hours since she had last seen him. Once Ned had told her he thought Gendry was Robert Baratheon's  _son_ , Arya had stormed out of the reception area without a word, shocking the remaining guests, and locked herself up in her hotel room. She only made a brief appearance at Robb and Jeyne's wedding suite that morning to apologize for leaving without saying one last congratulations before going back to her room. She was angry and confused and frustrated. Why would her father even entertain the thought of Gendry being the son of his best friend? Surely this was kind of some joke that Ned decided to play on her for some reason.

Arya didn't even want to think about it. The whole idea was making her head hurt in the worst kind of way.

She'd call Gendry tomorrow, she decided as she threw one last withering look at her door, as if Ned could feel her glare on the other side if he was still standing there.

For now, she needed to collect her own thoughts, so she grabbed her phone and opened up one of her games with her headphones plugged in.

. . .

"How long have you thought about this?" Arya asked, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she stared at her father sitting across from her at his desk in his study. She felt a sense of déjà vu as she sat there, thinking of how just two months ago, Arya and Ned had sat at his desk in the Hamptons and he had told her the story of Lyanna Stark.

"Since the engagement party," Ned admitted. He saw Arya's eyes spark up with anger and held a hand up to quiet her so he could continue. "It was when you introduced Gendry to the Baratheon family. I saw the resemblance and you know how Robert is. He's. . .a man of habit. Of actions, not words. He's had many affairs and he's had  _many_  other children." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Robert had been having an affair many years ago with a woman and when she told him he was pregnant, he left her. She died a few years later."

Arya felt like she couldn't breathe. "You think that Gendry's mother was Robert's. . .mistress?" She choked on the word, feeling like she was in some episode of  _The Tudors_  or  _Downton Abbey_.

"Yes."

"But that's. . .that's ridiculous! I mean, what are the odds that I met the illegitimate son of Robert Baratheon? It's too much of a coincidence. It doesn't make any sense. Gendry's father was probably someone who ran off when his mother got pregnant because he didn't have the money, he didn't feel responsible. . .Robert had the money to take care of Gendry. Why wouldn't he do  _something_  for Gendry all this time if he really was his father?" Arya didn't want to believe the words coming out of her father's mouth. She couldn't accept that Robert, her father's best friend, had ignored his son because he was an inconvenience for him.

Ned looked at her sadly. "Not everyone is willing to take responsibility for their actions," he said with a far-off look in his eyes. And Arya knew that he was thinking of Jon, how he had another child while he and Cat were separated and taken him in. It was the honorable thing to do, and Ned was an honorable man. And Robert. . .wasn't. "You should talk to Gendry about this. Ask him whatever he knows about his father. It's the right thing to do. We can get to the bottom of this. Maybe we'll even be able to get Gendry some money if Robert recognizes him as his son. I'll talk to Robert about it."

" _No!_ " Arya shouted, shocked at the tone her own voice had taken on.

Ned looked just as shocked as she felt. "Arya," he said slowly, "if Gendry is actually Robert Baratheon's son, there can be so many options to choose from. He can ask to be recognized, in public, and be able to make a better life for himself. All of these choices he has the opportunity to make will benefit him." He leaned forward on the desk and slid a small piece of paper across the surface to Arya. "That's the name and address of a doctor's office in Brooklyn. He can take a paternity test and see if Robert really is his father, if you choose to tell him. Which I do hope you decide to do, because it's not fair to keep this kind of information from him. He is, as you say, your best friend, isn't he?"

Arya glared at the slip of paper in front of her for a few seconds before reaching out and snatching it up.

Ned nodded once and watched as Arya stood up and shoved the paper in her bag without even giving it a passing glance before standing up. "Are you going to talk to him?" he asked.

Arya hesitated for a moment, weighing the limited options she had, and nodded quickly. "Yes. I am. But you are not going to talk to Robert yet. Not until we know for sure that he's really his son."

Ned promised he wouldn't. "You're making the right choice, Arya," he said.

Arya didn't answer.

She just turned on her heel and walked out of the office.

. . .

"Gendry!" Arya called out as she knocked on the door of his apartment. She had shown up at the shop first, but his boss had once again told her that he wasn't here and he was at home. So, unlike last time, Arya had asked for his address and driven all the way to Brooklyn, something she promised herself she would do everything to avoid in the future.

It seemed, though, that this trip of hers was about to be deemed absolutely worthless. Because Gendry didn't know how to answer a fucking door. She knocked again, harder, and called out his name one more time. "Gendry! Open up the door! We have to talk!" She hoped he didn't think she was going to talk about the talk they'd had at the wedding, when he'd kissed her again. Because this was much more important.

Finally, after another minute, the door opened, and Gendry appeared in the doorway. Arya was struck silent. He was standing there, tall as ever and looming over her, shirtless and wearing only a pair of faded blue jeans. In his hands, he clenched a magazine so tightly that his knuckles were turning white underneath the tanned skin and Arya feared he would pop one of them.

But what really worried her was his expression. He looked tortured, like he was trying to keep a whirlwind of emotions inside of himself so he wouldn't start screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. "Is it true?" he asked, his voice hoarse and quiet, the words tripping over each other as he struggled to get them out in a quiet and controlled voice. He reaching his hand out, holding out the magazine in his hand with trembling fingers. "Arya," he said. "Did you have any idea about any of this?" he asked.

Arya took the magazine out of his hands, already forming an idea in her head about what was printed there. She took one look at the headline of the article he'd folded the magazine over to, and felt her heart drop to her feet.

**IS ROBERT BARATHEON A FATHER OF MORE THAN THREE?**

_Someone telling you they have a kid with someone else is not an uncommon occurrence. But when the father of said child is the governor of New York, news like this does not go unnoticed._

_Everyone knows Gendry Waters (24) as the friend and supposed love interest of socialite Arya Stark (19). But an anonymous source tipped us off to the mysterious parentage of Mr. Waters. Now, he's always declined to comment whenever anyone asked, and his family life has never been under any scrutiny. So there was never a reason to be suspicious. But now that our source has said he's the illegitimate son of Robert Baratheon, governor and father to three children, we have questions._

_This source has told us a bunch of information. Like how Robert Baratheon was involved in an affair with a young woman about twenty five years ago, and then she was suddenly having his baby. Could this baby from so many years ago really be Gendry Waters? We can only wonder, and hope that our questions are answered correctly. . .soon. The best we can hope for when it comes to such a delicate topic is a paternity test, a public statement from either Gendry himself or Robert. Gendry's mother had passed away years ago, and so information from her is obviously unavailable._

_Another thing that we, and all of you, I'm sure, are wondering about, is how does this affect the relationship between Arya Stark and Gendry Waters? They've been causing much controversy for their age gap, social class differences, and money issues, ever since Arya first showed up at her sister Sansa's engagement party last month._

_If Gendry is, in fact, the son of Robert Baratheon, wouldn't that make Gendry the half brother of Joffrey Baratheon (22), Robert's oldest child with his wife Cersei? And if Sansa is engaged to Joffrey, does this make the budding relationship between Arya and Gendry somehow taboo? Would they be willing to put that to the test with a paternity test?_

_We'll be on this story 24/7, updating you with news of the true parentage of Gendry Waters and the comments of Robert. . .and his family. We can only imagine how Cersei must be feeling. Even though they got married after Gendry was born, the governor's wife's world must be turning upside down right now. I think we can all agree on being curious if the Baratheon family will welcome Gendry into their circle with open arms — or if they'll shun him from their lives without a second thought. I don't think they could be that cruel — After all, it wasn't his fault he was born._

_All in all, the whole situation all boils down to one simple question: Is Robert Baratheon really the father of Gendry Waters? We know our Upper East Siders are desperate and anxious for answers, and we're determined to get them for you._

Arya's eyes reached the end of the article, fixing themselves on the little black five-pointed star at the end of the last sentence that indicated the end. She didn't remove her eyes from the star for a long time, focusing on taking in deep breaths. And she didn't even look up when she spoke for the first time since coming to the apartment. "I didn't know." The lie hurt her, hurt her chest and her heart and made her feel like she was suffocating. "That's a lie," she said quickly, looking up at Gendry's blue eyes. "My father told me last night at the wedding that he had his suspicions that Robert was really your father. But it couldn't have been him that told the press he thought so. There must have been someone who gave him the idea that you were his son. Maybe that person told the papers about it. But I just learned about it. And I came right over to you to talk to you about it."

Without answering, Gendry turned and walked into his apartment, leaving Arya standing in the doorway. She followed him in, barely even bothering to look around as she trailed after him.

"So what do I do?" he asked.

"What?"

"I don't know what to do!" Gendry yelled. "You're raised with all of this stuff. You should know how to handle something like this."

Arya was at a loss. "Nothing. . .nothing like this. And besides, even when I  _would_  see an article about it, I never knew the family or the person who said they were their child.

"But there has to be something I can do."

"There's nothing you  _have_ to do," Arya explained. "You can make a public statement. You can take a paternity test. You can ignore it all."

"What about Robert?" Gendry asked.

Arya shrugged. "That depends on him. He can choose to make a statement about it if he wants, but I doubt he will. You don't know Robert, but he isn't the best person." She felt a little bad saying that to him when he just found out he could be his son, but the truth needed to be said.

"And if I choose to take a test?" Gendry asked, his voice shaky.

Arya thought for a moment. "Then there would be no choice but to go public with it. You would have to make a statement. You could say whatever you want. You could say you want to be a part of the family, ask to be the heir of the Baratheon company since you'd be the oldest instead of Joffrey. You could ask for money. Or you could even flip off Robert and his entire family and tell them to fuck off for Robert ignoring you all these years when he  _knew_  you were out there and knew you were his son."

"Did he really know about me?" Gendry asked, hurt seeping into his voice.

Arya hesitated, but nodded. "My dad told me he walked away from the mother when she told him she was pregnant."

Gendry clenched his hands into fists and Arya feared he would hit something and hurt something.

But he didn't hit anything. He didn't even yell. Instead, he started crying.

Arya was shocked. She had never seen Gendry cry, and it was a sight she never wanted to see again. The hurt on his face, the anger and the rage at Robert for ignoring him for all those years and for abandoning his mother when she had needed him the most, was plain and clear in the sounds he was making and the expression on his face.

Arya sat with him until he was done, and when he wiped his face, he looked determined. "I want to do the test."

. . .

The thought of asking Robert Baratheon to partake in the paternity test was too much for Gendry to handle, so Ned asked for him. Gendry sat in the Stark home for hours with Arya, waiting for Ned to come back with his answer. Arya spent the time distracting Gendry with stupid jokes and mindless conversation, keeping the TV off and making sure any newspapers and magazines were out of the way while was there.

Gendry, for his part, was trying not to think too hard about the last time he'd been inside the Stark penthouse. It was a rather pleasant visit, he thought with a small smile on his lips, but if he thought too long or too hard about it, he'd most likely end up kissing Arya once again. He prayed that Ned would come back soon and settle his nerves.

Finally, he walked through the door to find Gendry sitting on the couch in the living room with Arya sleeping next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. Ned didn't even glance at her suspiciously. He just gave Gendry a long hard look, a look filled with pity and regret. He nodded once before walking out of the room, going up the stairs and disappearing into his bedroom.

The test results came in a week later. The actual process was painful, having to sit in the same room as Robert Baratheon, too aware that he could be face to face with his birth father. But Arya, who had tagged along for emotion and mental support, as she put it so eloquently, made it easier as she kept her attention and his way from Robert.

And now she was sitting at one of the stools at his kitchen counter, going through his mail when her eyes landed on the envelope. "Gendry," she said breathlessly.

Gendry looked up from his TV screen, zeroing in on the envelope she was gripping. He jumped up, reaching for it blindly as he stumbled over to her. He ripped it open and unfolded the piece of paper, his eyes wandering all over the paper before he reached the bottom and his breath caught. He looked down at Arya, who was standing there anxiously as she awaited the news.

"Yes."


	13. A Birthday For The Ages

**PATERNITY TESTS COME BACK TO HAUNT EVERYONE**

_The news has reached us, along with everyone in the Upper East Side. . .and the whole country. Gendry Waters, a simple mechanic from Brooklyn who first appeared on our radar just two months ago in August when he showed up to an engagement party for Arya Stark's older sister as her date. Newspapers, news journalists and magazines have been speculating about a possible relationship between the two, despite their obvious age, class, and money differences and gaps. But now there's a story about Gendry Waters (24) that doesn't involve the nineteen year old socialite, but what it does involve is his parents. There has never been any reason for him to track down his birth father, whom he never knew, but when an anonymous source tipped us off to the fact that Robert Baratheon, our very own governor, was his true parent, the press immediately began reporting about it. And what was Mr. Waters to do but take action?_

_Just a few days ago, he took a paternity test with Robert Baratheon, though it was tough to convince him to take part in it. A week later, the results were in. The response? Well, there is no doubt that you can deny science or say it isn't real. So there's no way Robert can ignore the person who now has an official document stating that he is, in fact, his very own son. When we found out Gendry was Robert's son, we were quick to report it to you, along with everyone else. The news is shocking and startling, though we can only imagine what kind of thoughts must be going through Gendry's own head. The Baratheon family has yet to comment thus far, but we're sure we'll be hearing from them soon. But there's a question on everyone's mind now that no one can ignore or procrastinate answering for long: What will Gendry Waters do now that he is a Baratheon?_

_Though the Baratheon family has declined to comment as of right now, we have a feeling there must be a lot of arguing going on in that household right now. How does Cersei Lannister-Baratheon feel? She's been married to Robert for more than twenty years and has given him three children they both love very much. And now she's just found out that her husband has fathered another son. Even though the facts (like Gendry's birthday and the time Cersei and Robert had gotten married) tell us Gendry was born_ before _the marriage of Robert and Cersei, she must be feeling incredibly conflicted about what to do with this new information._

_A firm supporter for Gendry that we have spotted numerous times is Miss. Arya Stark, who was seen with Gendry at the doctor when he took the paternity test. According to a few sources, they have been spending more time together than ever before, and she's remaining by his side while Gendry makes the touch choices he needs to make to move forward from here. Perhaps this new situation could bring an end to the 'will they/won't they' game these two have been playing and finally put an official label on whatever relationship they seem to have been forming these past few months. We'll be wondering whether or not the Baratheons choose to include Gendry as an official member of their family. . .and whether or not Gendry even wants to be one. It's going to be a tough road ahead, and you can bet on it that we'll be reporting all about it to our devoted readers as soon as the news comes rolling in._

_We send our best wishes to both Gendry Waters and the entirety of the Baratheon family, and hope that they make the right choices for themselves and their family. Don't forget to keep an eye out, New York, because there's going to be a difficult journey up ahead._

. . .

October rolled in with a bitterly cold wind that was seen as odd considering the nice weather all of New York had been experiencing the past few months.

But Arya Stark was not concerned with the weather. She didn't care if the skies opened up and shot down acid rain. She was livid, and as she crumpled up the magazine and threw it into the trash can, her anger was noticed by the other person in the room.

"Just ignore it," Jon told her as he walked behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Gendry can handle whatever the papers throw at him. It's going to be fine."

"They're disgusting!" Arya yelled out, her frustration bubbling up to the surface as she thought more and more about the articles being written. "Does it seem fair to you that they're attacking him now more than ever because Robert Baratheon is a selfish man who couldn't even bother to acknowledge his own son?"

Jon fell quiet, his eyes downcast. "Not everyone is our father," he said.

Arya folded her arms. "I know. It's just not right."

Jon was about to say something but was interrupted when Sansa opened the front door, walking into the house with her hands full of mail. "We got invited to Renly Baratheon's birthday party," she announced as she tossed an envelope onto the counter.

Arya snatched it up, looking at the words printed there. They were indeed invited to Renly Baratheon's birthday party, set in three days.

"Well, Renly's parties have always been fun," Arya said, remembering a party she had been to two years ago at his house in Long Island. She had been seventeen at the time, and most of it was a fuzzy blur but she did remember having more than a few shots and kissing a random stranger.

Sansa turned on Arya with her eyes blazing. "Oh, really? Well, then you're going to have even more fun over there because guess who he invited as well? Gendry." She spat the name out with such disgust that Arya was taken aback. She had never been a fan of her friendship with Gendry, but Sansa had also never shown such open hostility towards him.

"How do you know that?" Arya asked. She'd known, of course, that Gendry was going to be invited to the party, because she was there yesterday when Gendry got the invitation in his mailbox.

"Because Joffrey found out, and Joffrey told me!" Sansa looked absolutely furious. "And you keep on bringing our family into this stupid scandal because you won't stop talking to Gendry."

"I'm not going to abandon him when he needs my help the most, now more than ever. This is probably the hardest time of his life. I'm not going to stop talking to him."

"You shouldn't be getting in the middle of it! It's only making the papers look at our family even harder than before."

"As if we had any privacy before I met Gendry," Arya scoffed, giving Sansa a dirty look over the kitchen island. She hopped off her tall stool and walked away from the room, going upstairs and shutting herself in her room.

Sansa was just bitter, Arya thought. She didn't know why, but to be honest, she didn't really care.

. . .

Three days later, Arya stood in front of her mirror and tried to curl her hair. She knew how to, but her hair was complicated. She rarely ever touched it, so the few times she did something to it, her hair always refused to cooperate. She hated it.

But Renly's parties were always extravagant and luxurious, so she had to make an appearance.

And a nice one, at that.

She was wearing a short skirt with pink and red flowers printed all over it and a black crop top with long sleeves made of lace. Her hair hung down her back in small curls with a black headband pulling her hair back from her face.

Sansa came into her room dressed in a short fitted light pink dress with long sleeves. She looked like cotton candy but she still managed to make it work, and she looked as pretty and delicate as ever. "Are you almost ready to go?" Sansa asked, irritation creeping on her voice. She was still upset about Gendry being invited to the party, and had no problem letting everyone know.

Arya glanced back at her over her shoulder, fixing the sleeves of her shirt. "Yeah, all ready."

The rest of the family was waiting downstairs, including Jeyne, and Meera. The car ride to Long Island felt longer than it actually was and it was uncomfortable to say the least. Sansa moved to the other side of the limo, staying as far away from Arya as possible, her legs crossed as she turned her head to look out the window. The only people who bothered to make conversation were Robb and Jeyne, most of the conversation centering around answering Cat's questions about the honeymoon they'd just arrived back home from yesterday.

Arya didn't speak for the entire ride, and pulling up to Renly Baratheon's estate brought a sense of relief she hadn't expected.

Renly had always been a man who loved life and decided to experience all of the pleasures it had to offer. His house only proved it. It stood tall and proud with four floors, complete with numerous balconies in each bedroom, luxurious studies and libraries, among other rooms that Arya had either forgotten about or hadn't been able to explore when she'd last been here.

She hoped that Gendry would already be there when she walked into the house, but wherever she looked, she couldn't find him. She asked Renly if he had shown up, but he only shook his head and looked worried.

Renly had managed to be a supportive person throughout this new found scandal of Gendry's parentage. He had even publicly acknowledged him as his own nephew and promised that he would do everything in his power to make him feel included in this new world. . .and in the Baratheon family.

Arya wasn't sure if Renly was on speaking terms with his older brother and his family at the moment.

It took two hours for Gendry to show up. And when he did, he looked uncomfortable and nervous in a button down shirt and a pair of jeans. Arya spotted him by the front door, looking lost, and felt a smile break out on her face.

"Gendry!" Arya breathed, making her way to him.

He caught sight of her and smiled back at her, looking rather relieved himself, and opened his mouth to say something to her but Renly's hand clapped down on his shoulder. "Gendry!" he said happily before Arya could say something to him. "I've been waiting for you to get here. Did you get lost? Ah, it doesn't matter. There's a bunch of people I want you to meet. Come!"

And just like that, Arya was left back at square one, alone and annoyed.

. . .

A few drinks had done wonders, and Arya felt like she was having the time of her life. Renly, in typical Renly fashion, had set up an open bar in his very own house. The bartender? Ygritte, the same woman who had working at the engagement party for Sansa and Joffrey. When Arya sidled up to the bar, she found Jon stuttering his way through a conversation with her, and Ygritte was looking rather amused as she listened to him ramble on as she served the party goers. He didn't even notice or reprimand Arya when she ordered her own drink, and managed to give Ygritte a subtle wink as she walked away with her drink in her hand.

Now she was on her third drink and feeling pleasantly buzzed.

The couch she was sitting on dipped suddenly in the space next to her, and Arya turned to find Gendry sitting next to her.

"You aren't even twenty yet."

Arya shrugged, tipping her glass back and draining the contents of her drink into her mouth. "It's a party," she said, giving him a small smile as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "Everyone should be having fun."

He shook his head, awe filling his eyes as he looked at her with a smile planted on his face. He looked fascinated, but Arya reasoned that the alcohol was probably making her see things already, even though she normally had a much stronger tolerance for drinking and alcohol than three simple drinks.

Her and Gendry sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the party unfold before them as the guests drank and danced themselves into oblivion. Gendry silently wondered if this would be his life from now on. Would he be invited to hundreds of parties, each one filling up his nights so he no longer had a free day to himself? Would he have to watch out for reporters and news journalists, looking over his shoulder every second whenever he wanted to make a move? Would he even have a personal life anymore? He wondered how life was for Arya, who had grown up with this, who had always known this kind of life. There had never been a reason for her to accommodate, to adjust. She just  _was_. She belonged in this life, she was this life. He couldn't imagine doing this every single night; he was already exhausted. Did he even want to be involved here? The answer terrified him, so he just disappeared without saying anything to Arya leaving her alone on the couch, and got himself a drink that might dim down his thoughts for the night.

Arya, for her part, hadn't seemed to take notice of Gendry's sudden disappearance. She stayed on that couch and didn't remove her eyes from the party guests until they started to water and she realized she hadn't even been blinking. Squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing them with her fists, she stood up from the couch and went upstairs to the third floor. It was relatively quiet, since no one bothered to go past the second floor, so Arya thought she could make an escape from the noise over there for a little bit.

As she walked around the floor, her hand found the knob to one of the bathrooms and turned it, forcing it open. The sight that greeted her was a shock.

Renly Baratheon sat there on the floor of the bathroom with his fancy and pristine shirt ripped open, a few buttons scattered across the floor. His pants were unbuckled with the belt hanging loose. And sprawled out next to him was Loras Tyrell, Margaery's brother. He was propped up on his elbow, his shirt off and hanging on the side of the bathtub, and his hand was idly tracing patterns on Renly's exposed chest as he kissed him. At the sound of the door opening, they jumped apart, Loras rolling away from Renly, eyes wide and face set in a panicked expression.

Arya stumbled back, her hand flailing out behind her as she searched for the doorknob of the bathroom door again. "I didn't. . ." She couldn't even manage to get the words out.

"Arya." Renly scrambled up, forgetting the fact that his pants were in dangerous territory and they might fall down at any given moment, and that his shirt was ripped apart. "Arya, listen to me. You can't say anything about what you just saw. Please, you can't."

"I-I won't, I just. . ."

Arya didn't get to finish her sentence, because a loud scream pierced the air and her attention was focused solely on that. Because it wasn't just any scream, but it was her mother's.

Giving one last look at Renly and Loras, who looked just as confused and curious about the scream as she felt, Arya raced down the flights of stairs she had just climbed and ran out the open door where a crowd of people were gathered in a circle. Arya shoved her way through to her mom and froze on the spot.

Catelyn and Sansa were standing there, clutching each other's hands and sobbing quietly while they looked down at the body that had fallen onto the ground at an unnatural angle and was now unconscious.

Bran.


	14. A Great, Big Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is going to be a bit. . .different. It's a filler chapter compiled of a bunch of news reports and magazine articles being written about the latest scandals that are circling New York City. Next chapter (Chapter Fifteen) will return to the regular format. Also, one of these articles will tell you about something that's going to happen in ch. 15, but it's not really that big of a deal. This is mostly my way of getting back on track with my story outline, because ever since I had to cut out chapter 12 and put it with chapter 11, I've been feeling really irritated. So then this idea happened, and I wrote it out. I hope you enjoy!

**TRAGEDY STRIKES THE STARK FAMILY**

_It was supposed to be a fun and extravagant night for all invited. . .Renly Baratheon's birthday party was supposed to be filled with dancing, drinking, laughter, and excessive amounts of fun and boisterous activity. We were all looking forward to it, especially when our magazine got an exclusive invitation to the not-so-exclusive party. And then. . .the unthinkable happened._

_Bran Stark, just an eighteen year old boy who was just days away from going to travel across Europe to study abroad for his first year at college, was found lying on the grass outside Renly's spacious mansion in Long Island. Four stories above them, a shattered window rained glass that had splintered off when Bran had supposedly fallen through._

_The people who found him? Tragically, it was his own mother and sister, Catelyn Stark (43) and Sansa Stark (22). They heard the glass breaking and heard Bran's scream, and raced outside to find him lying unconscious on the ground, bleeding out of a cut on his forehead from the glass window and his body lying at an. . .odd and unnatural angle. When people heard Cat's scream when she had found her son, all the guests rushed out to see what had happened to cause such a scene. American royalty is so untouchable, we are always shocked when something truly horrible happens to them._

_Ambulances were called, as well as the police. They loaded Bran onto the stretcher and whisked him away, with the entirety of the Stark family in the backseat of the ambulance van._

_The next day, there was a press conference that was held in place at the hospital Bran is currently being treated at. All members of the Stark family were present, and all of them looked distressed._

_Bran's older sister, Arya Stark, aged nineteen, was looking positively wrecked. It's not a secret that she's always been closer to her brothers Jon (24) and Robb (25), and Bran is no exception to that. She showed up at the hospital that morning first after the family had been sent home once Bran was taken into surgery immediately after they'd brought him in, and she stayed with him the entire morning as each Stark member arrived at the hospital. At the press conference, both Arya and Jon alluded to the possibility that foul play had been involved in Bran's falling accident, causing several reporters, including us, to gasp aloud in shock. The half siblings weren't very subtle about their theories, so we'll see where this new lead takes us._

_After Bran's surgery, he was taken to the recovery room where he now remains in a coma, as told to us by the doctors. He remains in critical condition, but the worst of it seems to be over._

_Eddard Stark, Bran's father, also looked very disturbed. He was sitting quietly throughout most of the press conference while Cat and Arya and Jon talked about their son and brother and how they wished for him to wake up and if any foul play had been involved in this accident then they should speak up or else things would get very bad for them. But near the end, he finally opened his mouth and offered up a few words for the cameras eagerly awaiting for the father of six to speak up. "I just want everyone to know that we are doing everything in our power to find out what happened to my son. We have investigators searching his ever movement up to the moment before my wife and daughter found him. All me and my family are asking for right now is some space so we can come to terms with this difficult situation and we thank everyone for respecting our wishes during this trying time." He broke off rather abruptly before speaking again. "We just want Bran to wake up. I want him up and safe. Thank you." His voice had definitely broken apart during that last sentence, and as he walked away, we were overcome with pity and sympathy for the family._

_It was supposed to be a wonderful occasion, a celebration for everyone invited where they could all let down their hair and have some fun at a party thrown by a man who always promised and delivered a good time. And it ended in a travesty, the child prodigy of the Stark family very nearly lost. It must be a whirlwind of emotions in their house right now as they try to figure out what to do next._

_We'll definitely be posting updates on our website as soon as we hear any new news about Bran's condition. We'll be on this story constantly, always checking in. Our most sincerest condolences and sympathies go out to the Stark family for enduring what they must during such a difficult time. It's a shame they have to go through this. We are all hoping for the safe and comfortable reawakening of Bran Stark._

**BRAN STARK RECOVERY UPDATES**

_It's been a frustrating and trying week for the Stark family as they've been forced to watch the second youngest son Bran Stark (18) go through surgery and a tough recovery that just seems to refuse to help anything as he's now stuck in a coma after he was found lying unconscious on the ground outside of Renly Baratheon's Long Island estate during Renly's birthday party. He seemed to have fallen (or have been pushed, as his older brother and sister Jon and Arya, aged twenty-four and nineteen, respectively, seem to think) out of the four-story window and landed on the grass outside the estate. He was found by his mother, Catelyn Tully-Stark, and his other older sister, Sansa Stark. Their screams alerted the other party guests to the commotion outside and the hospital was called immediately. Bran was taken into surgery right away and now remains in critical condition._

_He has yet to wake up, even though it's already been four days since he was found and taken into surgery. Which means it's been three days since the press conference where Jon and Arya, possibly the closest Stark siblings in the family, hinted at the fact that they seem to think foul play was involved in this accident of Bran's, and he had been pushed out through the window instead of simply tripping and falling through it like everyone else seems to believe. Ned Stark, proud father of all six of his children, also stated that he thanked the public for respecting the family's space as they grieved properly through this new trial life has thrown at them, and he said that all he wants is for Bran to wake up safely so he could take him back home where he belongs. Hospitals clearly make everyone uncomfortable, and the Starks are no exception to that. Whenever we manage to catch a glimpse of the family in the rare moments they walk out of Bran's hospital room, they always seem rather uncomfortable in the space. It's not so surprising, considering the situation. Everyone is still praying for Bran to wake up safe and healthy, but in the meantime, a certain Stark seems to be comforted by one of her friends._

_Gendry Waters (24) who has just recently been revealed to be the actual son of our very own governor Robert Baratheon, was spotted at the birthday party for Renly Baratheon where Bran's accident occurred. Afterwards, he made sure to check up on the family at the hospital the next day before the press conference, and we were lucky enough to catch sight of him right as he was leaving. The next day he showed up again, keeping our interest sharp and pointed. The sight that came to us wasn't so much as shocking rather than satisfactory: Gendry was seen hugging and comforting a crying and distressed looking Arya Stark. They looked extremely close together, finding comfort in each other throughout this difficult time._

_As of now, Bran's condition seems to remain the same as before, since he was taken out of surgery and put in the recovery room. He hasn't woken up from his coma and he hasn't worsened or improved. While some people may say that no news is good news, the Stark family might disagree. All they want is the good news, for the doctors to tell them that their beloved Bran has woken up and his health is as good as new. But Bran hasn't so much as twitched, and it's rather disturbing news in our opinion._

_We are still praying and hoping for the Stark family and the son who has failed to wake up as of yet. We'll see you next time with another update._

**BARATHEON FAMILY FINALLY MAKES A COMMENT**

_It's been a rough time for Gendry Waters, a twenty-four year old mechanic from Brooklyn who just found out that he was actually the son of Robert Baratheon, the governor of our lovely city of Manhattan, New York. . .and father to three children and husband to Cersei Lannister-Baratheon. Gendry hasn't made much of an appearance since the revelation, except at his uncle Renly Baratheon's birthday party a week ago, where Bran Stark (18) was found unconscious on the grass outside after he had supposedly fallen out of a four-story window. (For more details on that particular story, check out our multiple articles talking about the events that led up to it, and what happened after it. You can find those articles on our website.)_

_Gendry has, however, mentioned that he wants to be a part of a real family, and his uncle Renly seems inclined to make that happen in any way he can. He's made every effort to make Gendry feel included in the Baratheon family, going so far as to publicly announce it to a group of reporters and news journalists and gossip columnists eager for a word or two from the new found extended family of Gendry._

_So far, Renly is the only one who has made a public announcement on his thoughts on the new member of the Baratheon family. Until earlier today, when Robert and his wife Cersei appeared in front of a crowd of people to say that they are willing to try and make Gendry feel welcome in any way he could if he's interested. Or, we feel we should clarify. Robert may have shown up with Cersei, but he was the only who spoke. Cersei, for her part, looked rather expressionless throughout the entire ordeal, and whenever she let her careful facade slip and allowed some kind of emotion to shine through, she looked pretty angry and frustrated with the entire situation, and at her husband._

_Is Cersei really just doing this for Robert so he can gain the public's favor again, since there seems to have been some backlash due to his lack of commentary on the whole thing. Apparently, citizens seem to think that since Robert had refused to say anything regarding his son, then it must mean he doesn't care enough, or he doesn't want anything to do with him. Renly has definitely gained much positive attention since his own speech only a day after the paternity test results came back and proved that Gendry was his nephew. Could this sudden invitation to join his family officially be a ploy to gain the favor of his citizens like Renly has? Or is he genuine in his words?_

_We don't know yet, but we're sure we'll find out depending on Gendry's answer to this brand new and rather abrupt warm welcome to the Baratheon family._


	15. The Mourning Process

Arya Stark was standing at a cliff's edge, at a precipice. Her entire life had come to a standstill, everything halting in its place. She was sure that the earth had stopped spinning. She wanted to cry, to break down and rage at the world and the trials she kept on having to face. Scandal after scandal, fight after fight. . .she would never get a break. Not while she lived in this world. It definitely wasn't the first time she had wished to escape from the lifestyle of the Upper East Side's elite, but it was the first time she really felt that wish, felt it deep in her bones as she willed it to come true with all her might.

Sitting in the hospital room the day after Renly Baratheon's birthday party when it had gone awry was the longest day of Arya's life. Press conferences, doctors telling her and the rest of her family the same thing about Bran's condition, people telling everything was going to be alright when they clearly didn't know what the hell they were talking about. . .Arya hated it all. She felt sick to her stomach. Bitterness plagued her mind and sorrow filled her heart to the brim, blackening her thoughts and frustrating her to no end. She felt like she was going to throw up, bile rising up in her throat and choking her constantly. Arya just wanted to escape the room, escape the hospital, escape Manhattan and never look back.

Arya glanced back at the hospital bed where Bran was currently lying, unconscious and oblivious to the pain he had caused his family in his recklessness. He was lying so still, his hands at his sides and his head propped up on the pillow. If his eyes had been open, he would have been staring straight ahead. Arya watched Bran, silently willing him to open his eyes, to wake up so they could get him out of this fucking hospital and take him home so things could go back to the way they had been before Renly's party.

There was a knock on the door.

Arya looked over her shoulder, twisting in the uncomfortable hospital chair. "Gendry," she breathed. The last time she'd seen him, she'd been a little tipsy, right before she'd gone upstairs and found Renly and Loras in the bathroom. Right before she had heard her mother and Sansa scream when they'd found Bran outside. She lifted her knee up on the chair and turned fully around to face him while he stood in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "What are you doing here?" she asked him.

Gendry smiled stiffly at her, walking into the room and setting the bouquet of flowers on the small nightstand beside Bran's hospital bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

Arya shrugged, her facial expression not changing. Her eyes followed Gendry's movements from when he walked into the hospital room and put the flowers down to simply standing in front of her, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I'm doing okay," she said, only responding with actual words because she knew he would have felt even more awkward if she stayed quiet.

Gendry nodded, clearly at a loss for what he should say. Arya wanted to get up and hug him; just the fact that he was here was enough. She could see that he was struggling for the right words, for the right actions he should show to prove that he was here for her, but she knew. The fact that he made the journey to the hospital just to give flowers to a boy who he didn't even know all that well and check up on her was enough to let her know he was here for her no matter what. She wanted to hug him and kiss him and cry on his shoulder and to just know that he was  _there_ , to be able to feel him physically. Because sometimes, what Arya had quickly come to realize as she sat in the hospital room all by herself, was that even though you were aware of someone's presence in the same room as you, it wasn't enough until you were touching them, as if leaving a mark on them would be the only way you could prove they were really with you.

Gendry hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth and then closing it as he thought a little harder on what he wanted to say before opening his mouth again. "Arya," he said quietly, his voice hardly above a whisper. "How are you really holding up?" he asked, his eyes searching her face intently for some indication of what emotion she was feeling right now.

Arya was reluctant to talk about it. She didn't want him to see that side of her, the side that was vulnerable and weak and too fucking goddamn sad for his bright and clear presence. She needed to keep that side of herself hidden, because that side involved tears and screams that left her throat raw and stinging, objects being flung across rooms and claw marks scratched down another person's arm in rage and anger. If she opened her mouth and started telling him how  _hurt_  she was, how  _scared_  and  _so fucking alone_  she felt, she'd never stop.

Smiling softly, Arya shook her head. "I feel like shit," she said through a single, hollow laugh that was completely humorless. The sound of it, the sight of that empty smile on her face that meant absolutely nothing, made Gendry feel such pain for her, made him ache inside. She stood up, and walked out of the hospital room with one last glance over her shoulder at Bran, biting her lip as she did. She passed through the doorway and Gendry followed her, like he always would. When they got out of the room, she slid down the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest, sitting in silence.

After a few minutes, Gendry reached out his hand to her, to pull her up so he could hug her or comfort her for real instead of giving her empty promises and feeding her false hope that everything was going to turn out okay when he had no idea what was going to happen next

She didn't take his hand.

Instead, she jumped up from her spot on the ridiculously clean hospital floor and hurdled herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him hopelessly, her arms cinching around him tightly as she hung on and held him against her as tight as she could. Gendry stumbled back two steps, barely able to keep his own two feet on the ground as he wrapped his arms hesitantly around her waist, placing his hands lightly on her hips as he steadied her so she wouldn't fall either. Arya let out a broken sob, a sound that was filled with pain and anger, and he felt that hole in his chest rip open even wider. He didn't dare speak. He knew she wouldn't want his pity. In fact, she'd spit in his face if he even dared show a sign of it. He just held on to her, keeping her grounded as she cried and cried, letting out everything she wasn't able to process, wasn't able to put into words.

When Arya finally let go of him, she felt like a mess. Her eyes were swollen and bright and glittering with the remnants of the tears she'd already spilled and the ones that were still shining there that she hadn't yet let fall. Her cheeks and neck were streaked with wet tear tracks and mascara and eyeliner that had smudged when the tears mixed in with her makeup. Her hair was a mess, tangled clumps of strands of hair framing her wet face and tangling in with her hoop earrings. She hadn't bothered to make much of an effort to look her best today despite the upcoming press conference her parents had warned her about. She had settled for a long loose tank top that had to be at least a size too big on her and a pair of ripped black shorts with her favorite pair of combat boots.

Arya sniffed and wiped her eyes, flicking away the remaining tears and drying up her face where the fallen tears had messed up her face. She tied her hair up in a messy top knot resting on the top of her head and secured it with a rubber band she'd kept on her wrist. Looking up at Gendry, she felt sudden shame and embarrassment well up inside her, as if she needed to feel ashamed for feeling upset and sad, like she needed to apologize for showing weakness. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice trembling dangerously with the threat of new tears spilling over. "I don't know what just came over me."

Gendry shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn't matter. But to Arya, it was a huge deal. She had just cried on his shoulder and all he did was shrug at her like it didn't mean anything. "It's okay," he said quietly, as if he could read the thoughts running around in her mind wildly. "I get it. I mean. . .when my mom died I was a mess and I was just a kid. I didn't know what the fuck was going on but I knew that it hurt like hell. And your brother is in a coma and you're older than I was so. . .you shouldn't feel guilty for feeling upset."

Arya crossed her arms over her chest and gave a small shake of her shoulders. "I just don' know what to do," she said.

Gendry let out a small snort of laughter and brought her in for another hug. "No one does when shit like this happens. It's fucking normal not to know what to do. I'd be more concerned for you if you were up on your feet, acting like your regular self and giving everyone else advice on how to handle this situation. That's the weird thing to do." He kissed the top of her head softly, his arms wrapped comfortably around her, and Arya snuggled into him tighter and buried her head in his chest, breathing deeply.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Gendry nodded slowly and leaned back, studying her carefully. "I should be getting back home," he said as he unwound his arms from her waist one more time. "I have a few things I need to take care of, but I'll call you later or come by to visit again if I can," he reassured her, giving her a small smile. "Text me if anything changes with Bran's condition, or even if you just want to talk to me about anything. . .about any of this." He glanced around the hospital and shook his head. "I'll see you later, Arya."

Arya smiled tightly, watching him walk away from her and disappear around the corner to go into the elevator. She felt exhausted, and being the only one at the hospital wasn't helping.

She'd gotten up extra early this morning so she could come by the hospital and ask how his condition had been since he'd gone through surgery last night. She wanted to know if there had been any improvement since he hadn't woken up by the time the entire family left together to go back home. According to the doctors, nothing had changed, meaning no improvement but also no worsening. Arya stayed by his bedside the entire morning, making sure she wouldn't leave him unless something had happened.

Now, as she walked back into Bran's hospital room after Gendry had left her line of sight, she saw that Bran still hadn't changed. He was lying in the exact same position, not even a twitch of movement visible to her eyes. He was just. . .so still. Arya felt her throat close up, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she willed herself not to cry any more than she already had. She had cried on Gendry's shoulder not even ten minutes ago, and she had cried herself to sleep last night after the Starks had made the journey back home.

She was all cried out. Arya sniffed one last time, wiping her nose and her eyes, and sitting back down in the plastic chair next to her brother's bedside. She had picked up a small breakfast before she'd arrived at the hospital, and the scraps of a bagel and a blueberry muffin were resting on the small nightstand next to her half-empty cup of coffee.

As she was ripping off a small piece of her bagel to put in her mouth, the door opened and Catelyn walked in.

"Oh," Cat said, looking surprised to see her there. "Hello, Arya."

It was no surprise, or secret, that Cat had definitely been hit the hardest when Bran had been found. Not only because  _she_  was the one who had found him, but because Bran was her favorite. Always had been, always would be. She had been doting on him since he was a baby and had carried on doing so in a way she never had with her other children into his toddler years, and then his childhood, and then into his teenage years. And now that he was nearing adulthood with each passing day, Cat was getting more and more anxious about it like she never had been when Arya was going to college, or when Sansa had gotten her first job, or when Robb had proposed to Jeyne. She favored Bran and the entire family knew it. It hurt everyone else, it was true, but Cat had never made any attempt to soothe their fears that she didn't love them as much as she loved Bran. She just continued to coddle him, to give him everything he wanted and never truly reprimand him for any wrongdoing, and hardly ever punished him if he did something wrong. It made all the other kids feel bitter, as if they weren't good enough for Cat's undying love that she should have promised all of her children.

"Hi, Mom," Arya said quietly, not bothering to look at her as she took another sip from her coffee. She picked at the bottom half of the muffin, wrinkling her nose when she got some of the crumbs stuck under her long nails, and instead started eating the top half.

"What are you doing here so early?" Cat asked. Even now, Arya heard the small note of fear in her voice, as if she worried that Arya, Bran's very own older sister, would hurt him while he was recovering. If only she had seen Arya just a few minutes ago, when Gendry had still been here. Then she really would have realized that other people cared for Bran as well. It wasn't just her.

"I came to visit my younger brother," Arya said matter-of-factly. She turned in her chair and looked Cat dead in the eye. "I'm allowed to visit him. He's my brother, and I wanted to make sure he was okay.

Cat nodded. "Right, right, of course. Of course you do." She dazedly sat in her chair and clutched her bag in her lap, gripping the handles with white knuckles.

They sat together like that for a while, with Cat sitting ramrod straight in the chair and her handbag in her lap, as if she was ready at a moment's notice to use it as a shield against Arya, or anyone who dared come to try and visit Bran. Arya, for her part, was practically lounging casually in her chair, eating the top half of her muffin, the only part anyone really liked, anyway, with her legs crossed and her feet resting on the iron bars on the bottom of Bran's bed. She was concerned about him, yes, but the fact that Cat thought she had no right in coming here to visit him and made no small attempt to hide her thoughts made Arya furious. She had no right to treat her that way. She was her own daughter. But it seemed that Catelyn Stark was always willing to forget about that small little detail whenever it suited her. And right now, it seemed like that was the case.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, Cat sat up even straighter, as if it was possible, straight enough to make Arya worry her spine would snap in two, and opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry," she said stiffly. "What I've done these past few months wasn't right of me. Forcing you to date people you didn't want to, making you bring dates to all of these parties and things. . .it wasn't good of me."

Arya hesitated before answering. Was her mother really apologizing, or was this some kind of secret ploy she had to get her to stop talking to Gendry? Because she had brought Gendry as her date to two of those parties and continued hanging out with him afterward. She bit her tongue for a few seconds, waiting until she calmed down, and then spoke. "If this is some kind of trick you have up your sleeve to try and make me stop talking to Gendry. . ."

"It's not," Cat reassured her. "I promise. I like him, I suppose. He's nice enough, though he is rather old. But you are nineteen, and your birthday is in a few months and then you'll be twenty." She sighed heavily. "I guess I really don't have enough right left to tell you what to do with your life anymore at nineteen years old."

Arya was shocked. Her mother had never been one to apologize. She'd never heard her say the words 'I'm sorry' and mean it. And though she was a little suspicious of her now, she wasn't going to turn away an apology from the most stubborn woman in Manhattan, after herself.

"It's okay," Arya said, pursing her lips. "I guess I'm sorry, too. For, you know, being so difficult all the time and doing the exact opposite of what you guys want me to do. I'm sorry for that.

"So we're both sorry."

"Yes."

And they left it at that.

. . .

The next day, when Sansa arrived to the hospital with Joffrey on her arm, she greeted Arya with a newspaper to the face.

"What the fuck?" Arya said loudly, ignoring Cat's warning  _tsk_  sound.

"They're  _still_  talking about you guys. And it's getting in the way of my engagement to Joffrey. Because he's his  _half brother_ ," Sansa said disgustedly.

"Is that my fault?" Arya asked snidely, barely even bothering to scan the article before throwing it to the side. All she saw was that they had seen her crying on Gendry's shoulder yesterday. Great.

Sansa shook her head. "They're still making articles about you, Arya. And it's making people think badly of us for letting you get involved with your future brother in law."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Gendry hasn't even responded to Robert's comment about becoming a Baratheon," she said with a pointed look at Joffrey. "I'm sure he doesn't even care." She crossed her arms and legs, assessing Sansa carefully. "Besides, our  _brother_  is in a coma and we don't even know when he might wake up because his condition literally hasn't changed  _at all_  since he was taken out of surgery, and you're more concerned about the fact that some stupid gossip columnists are writing articles about me and my friend instead of you for a change?" She shook her head. "That's pathetic  _and_  disgusting."

Sansa was about to reply when Joffrey put a hand on her arm and it was like Sansa just  _stopped_. She closed her mouth and tensed up and didn't move. Her eyes traveled to the floor and she slowly walked out of the room. "I'm going to the bathroom," she said quietly.

Arya looked back and forth between Sansa's retreating figure and Joffrey's smug face, and stood up. "I'll be right back," she told Cat. "I'm going for a walk. I'm feeling cramped in this room."

She raced after Sansa the moment she was out of sight of the room and all of its inhabitants, and burst through the bathroom door.

Sansa was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing her makeup and her hair. She looked white as a ghost. As if she'd seen one.

"I'm worried about you and Joffrey," Arya said abruptly. Sansa turned to look at her with wide, accusing eyes. "You're not the same when you're with him. You're. . .submissive. You let him do whatever he wants to you, and whenever he tells you to do something, you just  _do_ it."

She paused for a second, collecting her thoughts. "Did you quit on Margaery?"

Sansa's mouth opened and closed again and again before she scoffed. "How dare you?" she exploded, her voice echoing off the walls of the bathroom that was thankfully empty except for them two. "Joffrey loves me and I love him, and I don't care how much you don't like him, because I'm engaged to him and I'm going to marry him and we're going to spend the rest of our lives together. And we'll be  _happy_."

She turned around and spun on her heel, walking out of the bathroom and leaving Arya standing there by herself, feeling more alone than she ever remembered.


	16. The Governor's Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my favorite chapter, to be honest. It came quickly, but I already knew where it was going. There isn't much here, it's more of a filler chapter. But the ending is what really drives the plot for the next few chapters. I'd say the next three or four? Lots of stuff happen in those chapters including a disappearance, a reappearance, an affair, a funeral, and a huge relief for the Starks. Oh, and sex. (Did that get your attention?)

**A/N: This isn't my favorite chapter, to be honest. It came quickly, but I already knew where it was going. There isn't much here, it's more of a filler chapter. But the ending is what really drives the plot for the next few chapters. I'd say the next three or four? Lots of stuff happen in those chapters including a disappearance, a reappearance, an affair, a funeral, and a huge relief for the Starks. Oh, and sex. (Did that get your attention?)**

"I'm not going," Arya said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ned sighed heavily and leaned forward so his elbows here resting on his knees, hands clasped together under his chin. "Arya," he said softly, pleadingly. "It's the Governor's Ball. We've never missed it. We can't start now."

"Well, I think we have a very good excuse to start now!" she said loudly, gesturing over at Bran, still lying there unconscious.

Cat looked between the two of them, her husband and her daughter, and thought carefully about who she should side with. "Arya," she said gently. "Maybe you should rethink this. It'll be fun."

"It's never fun!" Arya said.

She glanced over at the invitation laying on the bedside table next to Bran's hospital bed. It was sitting on top of the envelope, the paper thick and creamy, with elegant calligraphy scrawled across inviting them to 'A night of delicious food, tasteful drinking, and endless fun'.

She had been going to the Governor's Ball since she was eight years old. She had never had much fun unless she was filled up with alcohol and sneaking off with a mystery boy she forgot about the next morning.

"I just. . .can't leave him here," she said, looking back at Bran.

Cat softened. "I know. But you have to do this for Robert. He needs the support."

At that, Arya bristled. "Why should he get the support no one's shown Gendry?" she shot out.

Sansa scoffed. "Plenty of people have shown Gendry support," she reminded Arya. "For example, his  _uncle_. Renly? He's openly admitted to supporting him, and so have the rest of the Baratheons. As in his father. It's Gendry's own fault if he doesn't accept Robert's offer to become a part of the family."

"It's not a real comment," Arya said condescendingly. "Robert's just trying to gain the favor of everyone in New York again so they'll vote for him when elections come up again."

"Arya!" Cat snapped, and Arya shut her mouth.

"We're all going," Ned said finally after a few seconds of silence. "And that's final."

. . .

Arya stared at herself in the mirror in her room and hated herself.

She loved the dress, though. It was long, reaching the floor, and tight, fitted around her body perfectly. It had a long slit up the side of her leg, inching up to her mid thigh. The bright red color automatically demanded attention. Yes, she loved the dress.

But she hated herself.

Bran was stuck in a hospital bed and she was going to the governor's ball.

Catelyn knocked on her door and stuck her head through the doorway. "Arya," she said. "We're leaving soon. Come downstairs."

Arya took one last look in the mirror, fixed her hair that she'd managed to tame into the shape of halfway decent curls, and grabbed her small black bag. She slung the long chain strap around her wrist a few times and carried it like a clutch as she walked down the stairs, the sound of her tall black heels clacking against the hardwood floor.

Everyone else was already downstairs, waiting for. Arya made her way to Jon, who smiled at her and told her she looked very pretty. Arya smiled back at him but it didn't reach her eyes and she knew it.

Inside the limo, the silence was thick and tense, the weight of their missing family member pressing down on them like an invisible sense of pressure that refused to give up.

Cat cleared her throat, the sound surprisingly sharp and loud in the silence of the limo. "So, Jeyne," she said hesitantly, "how are you and Robb enjoying the married life?"

Jeyne was all smiles despite the situation the Starks were in. "It's great," she said, her hand on Robb's knee.

"That's good to hear," Cat said, and once again the limo fell into silence. It was even more awkward than when they had first gotten into the car because the failed attempt at conversation hung over their heads now.

It was a relief to everyone when Ned announced they had arrived.

Arya got out of the car and went right to the front of the tall building, climbing the wide steps and approaching the man standing in the doorway wearing a black suit and holding a clipboard.

"Arya Stark," she said as the rest of her family caught up to her.

Everyone was let in easily and the moment Arya saw the open bar, she decided that maybe this party would be a little more bearable than she'd originally thought.

. . .

She was so fucking wrong.

She hated going to these parties, but now that they had a family tragedy, it seemed that everyone had resolved to annoy Arya about it when all she wanted was to forget about the fact that she was at a party and her younger brother was laying in a hospital in a coma.

"No," she was saying to a distant cousin of Margaery Tyrell, "his condition hasn't improved, but we're obviously hoping for the best.

As if that was even a fucking question.

Arya entertained herself throughout the party with the open bar, the ridiculously small food produced on platters served by the waiters, and thinking about Gendry.

She wished he was here. She wished she had someone to laugh at these people with. She wished she had someone to protect her from the insensitive people who made comments about Bran's condition and didn't even think before the words were out of their mouth.

Luck was on her side, at least, when her phone buzzed inside her clutch.

She pulled it out and didn't even bother checking the name before she answered. "Hello?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how boring is that fucking party?"

Arya smiled, her mood automatically brightening. "A fucking twenty," she muttered, swirling her straw in her drink.

"How many drinks have you had so far?"

Arya laughed. "It's an open bar."

Gendry snorted. "I'm pretty sure open bars still prohibit underage girls from drinking."

Arya shrugged. "Tell that to them." She waited until Gendry's soft laughter quieted down before spinning in her tall bar stool to survey the rest of the party room as she leaned her back against the bar's counter. "Save me from here," she whispered.

"Where do you want to go?" Gendry asked immediately.

"Anywhere."

"I'm on my way."

. . .

When Arya's phone buzzed in her bag again, she disappeared to the bathroom to answer. "Hello?" she said, even though she already knew who it was.

"Come outside," Gendry said. "I don't want to come up there, but if you want to leave, I shouldn't go up anyway. One look at me and I'll be surrounded. I'm waiting in my car downstairs."

He hung up before Arya could respond, leaving her by herself.

Arya slipped her phone back in her phone and ran a hand through her curls, bringing them over her shoulders and walking out to find her parents.

"I'm going out for some fresh air," she said in Ned's ear.

He knew she was lying and she knew he knew she was lying, but he didn't stop her, and that's one of the reasons why Arya Stark is a daddy's girl.

Gendry was waiting for Arya right outside the building in his car, the windows rolled down so she could see it was him. She opened the door and climbed inside, sighing in relief when the door was closed behind her.

"Wow," Gendry breathed from beside her, and Arya turned to him to see what he was talking about. He was looking at her with wide eyes. "Arya, you look beautiful," he said.

Arya flushed as red as her dress. "Shut up, stupid," she said.

"You need to learn how to take a compliment."

"You need to learn when to shut up."

"You need to learn how to treat your friends better."

"You need to learn how to listen to me."

"You're tinier. You're not threatening."

Arya could do no more than flip him off tiredly, making Gendry laugh loudly. When they were both quiet, Arya realized that it wasn't the same kind of silence as the kind in the limo. No, this was much,  _much_  better.

"So," Gendry started again soon after, "how's the party?"

Arya groaned. "Boring and stuffy."

"I'm sure you're the most interesting person there."

Arya laughed out loud. "All they care about is asking about Bran's condition, and they don't even care that much. They're only asking to be polite." She stared off ahead of her, in the direction she knew the hospital was.

Gendry sighed. "How is he doing?" he asked softly.

Arya shrugged. "Hasn't changed."

Gendry gave her a look of sympathy but didn't say anything as he dug in his shirt pocket for something. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

"I didn't know you smoke," Arya said, surprised.

Gendry blew out a cloud of smoke without even taking the cigarette out of his lips. "Sometimes."

"Why sometimes?"

"Sometimes I get bored and I do it."

"Isn't that what sex is for?"

Gendry paused, and then Arya paused, and they could only look at each other.

"Sex is for boredom?" Gendry repeated, eyebrows raising.

Arya shrugged. "To some people. When it's just with a random person."

He cocked his head to the side. "Would you know that on a personal level?"

A sly smile tilted her lips up. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said cheekily and turned back in her seat so she was sitting regularly.

Yes, he definitely wanted to know.

Gendry blew out another puff of smoke, keeping his eyes on her the entire time.

"Arya," he said.

"Hm?" Arya hummed mindlessly, not even really listening to what Gendry was saying. The smell of smoke and the sight of New York City at night was going to her head.

"We never really talked about us kissing."

Arya froze. "Yes, we did."

"At the wedding? That didn't count."

"Why not?"

"Because we ended up kissing after that, too."

"You kissed me," she pointed out.

"There was kissing."

"It wasn't my fault."

"It was no one's fault."

"I would think it was the kisser's fault, actually."

" _Arya_."

"What?"

"We never talked about it."

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I do."

"Fine. So let's talk."

Gendry kissed her.

Arya was surprised but she still managed to kiss him back.

She slowly reached one hand up to the back of his neck to bring him down to her height, because even though they were sitting in a car, he was still much taller than her. Normally, their height difference would piss Arya off to no end, but they were kissing and whenever she kissed Gendry, few things managed to piss her off. Not that she'd ever let him know that. Instead, she just continued kissing him and didn't stop and he kept kissing her and didn't stop and she thought, in the back of her mind, that she'd like to stay like this for a long time.

But then Gendry pulled back, his pupils blown, nearly swallowing all of the bright blue of his irises. "I keep on kissing you," he said blankly, his voice scratchy and hoarse.

"You just can't stop kissing me," Arya agreed.

"I really can't."

"Should we continue kissing?"

"I like kissing you."

"I like kissing you, too."

"So we should continue kissing?"

"Do you want to continue kissing?"

"I want to continue kissing."

"I think we should continue kissing."

So Gendry leaned in again and kissed her, harder this time. He thought briefly of that night that felt so long ago when it had been Jeyne's bachelorette party and he had run into her and they ended up kissing in her room.

He liked this kiss better.

He liked kissing Arya better than anything, though, so he really couldn't say.

Arya broke the kiss after a moment, her breathing slightly labored. "Thank you?" she said softly.

Gendry grinned widely. "That good, huh?" he teased.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Shut the fuck up," she said.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"For being there for me these past few months."

"Anything for a friend, right?"

"You're my best friend, I think."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think you're my best friend, too."

"Best friends who kiss?"

"Best friends who could do a lot more than kiss if both friends say yes."

"Did you just ask for my consent?"

"I think so. I was trying to but it sounded a little weird."

"It was the perfect amount of weird and cute."

"So you think I'm cute?"

"I also think you're weird."

"Which side of me dominates the other?"

"Don't say dominate. It's weird."

"Is it because I'm bigger than you so you start thinking of scenes from Fifty Shades of Gray?"

"Oh, my God, shut up."

"Answer my questions."

"I'm not kissing you anymore."

"I'll behave."

"Your cute side dominates the weird side of you."

Gendry kissed her again, a quick peck on her lips. "That's all I wanted to know."

Arya raised her eyebrows. "So you don't want to know if I'm willing to give my consent to do a lot more?"

Gendry paused, pretending to think it over. "My question still stands."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"It's a positive answer."

"It's a  _very_  positive answer."

Arya was opening her mouth to answer him when a loud  _BANG!_  interrupted her sentence before it even began. "What the fuck?" she muttered, looking out the car window. Glass rained down the building from the window on the exact floor the party was being held on, and she felt a cold hand grip her heart and squeeze painfully. "The party," she whispered.

She wrenched the car door open and Gendry followed, and they raced to the doorman. Arya gave her name once again and was let through, looking out behind her as Gendry gave his name. She wasn't surprised when he was let through.

They got to the elevator and traveled up to the twentieth floor of the building. When they reached the party, the sight before them was a shock.

The window Arya had seen down below in the street was destroyed, shattered. On the opposite side, where a brick wall normally was, was a wall made entirely of glass. And that long glass wall had a huge hole in it, jagged pieces sticking out at random places.

And in the center of the room. . .

In the center of the room, with hundreds of guests surrounding him in a circle, was Robert Baratheon, laying face down on the floor. Blood was pooling by his head and Arya knew it before her brain even registered what she was seeing.

Robert Baratheon was dead.


	17. Respect For The Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking such a long time to upload this chapter, but I do have my reasons. If you would like to see the whole explanation, go to my tumblr emmaawaatson and go to the tag "The Age Of Indecency", where there will be a post titled "To All TAOI Fans". That message was made due to rude anons who didn't know how to ask nicely for an update, people who demanded rather than requested when the next chapter would be up, and people generally not having any concern for me as a person and disregarding the fact that I do have a life outside of writing and taking advantage of this story that I write because I want to.
> 
> Just a warning: There is smut in this chapter. Not very good smut (I was under a lot of pressure while writing it) but it's smut nonetheless.

On the day of Robert Baratheon's funeral, Arya wore black and wore bright red nail polish on all her nails except her ring fingers, which she painted silver. When Sansa saw it through her tear-stained and red eyes, she glared at Arya and turned away without a word.

Arya glanced over at Sansa's own dark wine-colored nail polish and rolled her eyes. She had taken her role as fiance to the son of the deceased very seriously and had made it her personal goal to look both as tortured and yet fashionable as possible at the same time at the funeral. Her red hair was pulled back in a severe bun, her makeup was especially dark, from the thick eyeliner to the redddish-brown lipstick, and her long-sleeved black dress was flattering but not attention-catching. She looked, for the first time Arya could remember, as modest as possible.

Ned walked into the living room where the whole family was waiting for him, looking lost and confused in his own home. He looked startled to see his own family sitting on the couches and perched on the edge of the coffee table.

"Oh," he said. "Are we all ready to go, then?"

Arya walked right next to her father as they filed into the elevator and walked outside to the waiting limo outside. The entirety of the remaining Baratheon family was there, picking them up for the funeral, but the limo was blocked by the crowd of reporters that had gathered outside the building the Starks lived in. Arya fought her way through the sea of people, even going so far as to shove a microphone out of her face and flip off the reporter who held it before falling into her seat in the limo.

She let out a rough exhale and pushed her hair back behind her shoulders as she leaned back in her seat, scooting over to make room for the rest of her family as they slid in one by one. As soon as everybody had gotten in the car, Joffrey tapped the back of the driver's seat to let him know they were ready to go. Sansa immediately went over to Joffrey, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tight. He made no reaction.

When they got to the cemetery, it wasn't a surprise that there was already a large crowd there, waiting for the two families that had been closest to Robert to show up.

They came out of the limo one by one and took their rightful place at the front of the crowd.

Arya stood next to Jon and Robb, her head resting on Jon's shoulder as she listened to the priest talk. His words blended in together, mixing in her brain mindlessly. She couldn't focus on a single word he said.

As the priest continued to talk and spew out fake words of comfort that assured everyone Robert was in a  _better place_  (How would he even know if he hadn't even died yet?), Arya spotted Gendry lingering in the crowd, his hands clasped in front of him and his head tucked into his chin, looking stonily at the ground.

Arya had never felt more pity for anyone.

When he finished talking, Arya stood behind Sansa in the line made to throw a handful of the dirt into Robert's grave after his coffin was lowered down into the ground.

She scooped up a handful, the dirt soft against her skin, and let it slowly fall from her palm as it sprinkled onto the wood. She brushed her hands together to get rid of the remaining dirt and walked back to where her family and the Baratheons were waiting by the limo to go to the wake.

The Baratheon home was like an exaggerated and bigger modern version of the Starks' own home. It boasted four floors and glass walls with white leather couches and low coffee tables. The whole house screamed that Cersei had decorated the place by herself. Or, rather, she had yelled orders at interior decorators as she drank glasses of wine, using her personal taste as reference and never bothering to consult Robert on what he thought his own home should look like. Then again, Arya thought to herself as she seated herself on one of the couches with a glass of champagne in one hand and a panini sandwich on a plate in the other and crossing her legs, Robert never had much of an interest in things that didn't involve alcohol, women who were infinitely younger than him, or hunting and fishing. He didn't even have an interest in his family.

The couch dipped beside her when new weight settled down beside her, and Arya glanced over with the panini halfway to her mouth.

"Gendry," she said, her hand freezing.

Gendry smiled at her, but it was crooked and it didn't reach his eyes and it wasn't  _big_  enough to be a real smile from Gendry. When he smiled at her, he normally looked like the sun had shone through his face.

"Hey," he said, and his voice was hoarse and low, as if he had damaged it badly and was put on strict orders to not talk too much or too loud at the risk of hurting his throat.

"How have you been?" she asked, still shocked to find him here in the house.

Gendry shrugged. "I don't know, really," he said truthfully. "I feel. . .weird. I never knew him. So why should I feel sad, you know?" Arya nodded even though she had no idea how he must be feeling right now. "Am I bad person for not. . .missing him properly or whatever?"

Arya hesitated, her breath catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to answer.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I mean, I'm going to be honest with you. Your father. . .was not the greatest person. But he was your father, so maybe you should mourn him. Then again. . ." Arya jerked her chin to Myrcella, who was currently crying into Margaery's shoulder as she comforted her, patting her on the back consolingly as Sansa repeatedly offered her tissues. "You never knew him like they did."

Gendry didn't reply and Arya allowed him his few minutes of silence. It was the least he was owed after all that he had been forced to go through for the past few months, so she sat back and ate her sandwich in peace.

"Have you eaten?" she asked after a few minutes.

Gendry shook his head. Arya took the second half of her sandwich and handed it to him silently, not taking her hand away when he refused and only left him alone when he took a bite. "How'd you get invited here?"

"Got a call from Myrcella. Said her mother wanted me to come, but she couldn't call me at the moment so she asked her to."

"Bullshit," Arya said bluntly, scoffing rudely and throwing a glare at Cersei Lannister's back over her shoulder. "She didn't want to call you herself. Fucking bitch." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, sipping her champagne in an aggressive manner that Gendry himself didn't even know was possible. Only Arya Stark could make drinking look snarky.

They sat together side by side, and Arya couldn't help but think  _Just like this_. She'd like to sit here forever just like this, with Gendry's thigh pressed against hers and her blood boiling just beneath her skin because he made her nervous in the best way possible.

She thought she'd like to stay here just like this for the rest of her life.

At least, she would have if she weren't at a wake.

. . .

An hour later, Arya was noticing just how uncomfortable her dress was.

Sansa hissed at her to be quiet when she mentioned it. "We're supposed to be in mourning," she said under her breath as she loaded her plate with pieces of watermelon and little red grapes, "and you're complaining about your dress itching you?"

Arya gave her a dirty look. "Shove your fake grief up your ass, Sansa," she spit out. "You never even liked Robert. You're only pretending to be sad for Joffrey."

She walked away from her, wringing her hands together in front of her and breathing heavily and slowly through her nose. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself.

"Rough day?"

Arya turned to find Gendry standing behind her, and then she broke down. She had never been one for crying in public, but ever since Bran's accident, she had turned into a faucet. Tears that seemed to have been building up for weeks spilled through her eyes and leaked down her face, and Gendry took her by the arm and pulled her in close, cupping the back of her head to his chest, his hand stroking her hair soothingly.

And Arya had never expected to start crying at Robert Baratheon's funeral, but Bran's accident and Robert's sudden death, mixed with the stress of worrying about Sansa's relationship with Joffrey that seemed to be slowly deteriorating before her very eyes and her own personal problems like her confusing feelings for Gendry and her family's current fragile state, just bubbled up to the surface, making her much more emotional than she ever thought she would have been on this very day. She leaned against Gendry's chest as if she couldn't hold herself up, and she really doubted she could, and let a small, pathetic sob slip through her lips. Gendry's lips brushed the top of her head, pressing softly there. "Do you want to go somewhere for a bit?"

Arya nodded, still sniffling quietly. She pulled back from Gendry's embrace and wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand. She offered Gendry a watery smile, the edges of her lips trembling with the effort it took not to start crying again. "Sorry about that," she said, her voice small and hoarse with the sobs that had wrecked her throat when she refused to let them come out through her mouth, instead forcing them back down. "I didn't mean to. . .well, have a fit in the middle of all this." She shrugged, looking down shyly.

Gendry framed her face with his hands, tipping her head up to look at him. His eyes were hard and intense. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You hear me?"

Arya nodded again, still trying to avoid his eyes as he spoke. "Okay. It's okay. I'm fine, really. I promise. I was just. . .stress, you know?" She sighed and crossed her arms over her waist, feeling a pit at the bottom of her stomach.

Gendry wrapped his arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm comfortingly in an attempt to warm her up. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

She grabbed her coat on the way out of the house, turning to look over her shoulder at her family.

They were still in the middle of the room, all spread out away from each other. Cat was talking to Cersei, though she looked visibly uncomfortable, while Ned was talking to Myrcella and Tommen. Robb and Jeyne were holding hands at the far edge of the wall, set apart from everyone, and Jon was sitting by himself on the couch. Sansa was stuck to Joffrey's hip, trying to get him to eat something, and Rickon was lingering by the buffet table, talking to one of the caterers.

"They won't notice I'm gone," Arya reassured Gendry when he gave her a questioning glance, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "I'll probably get a call from them in a few hours." She made her way to the front door, shrugging her jacket on as she pulled the door open and walked out into the cool weather. Summer was finally coming to an end.

In Gendry's car, they sat in semi-comfortable silence, the heater on and blowing hot air in Arya's face. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the strands of her hair blew in her face, her chin resting on her hand as she propped her elbow up on the car door underneath the passenger seat's window. Gendry was silent as well as he drove, one hand on the wheel with the other resting on the glove compartment between their two seats. Arya wanted to reach out with her free hand and intertwine their hands together, but didn't dare.

"Where do you want to go?" Gendry asked.

Arya shrugged. "Your apartment?" she suggested.

Gendry scoffed. "All the way in Brooklyn?" He shook his head but didn't disagree with her. Instead, he just continued driving. The drive was forty-five minutes, but it didn't bother Arya at all. She always liked long car rides.

Gendry parked the car in front of a tall apartment building, taking the keys out of the ignition and opening the door.

Arya unbuckled her seat belt and by the time she was turning back to the door, Gendry was already there, opening it for her and gesturing for her to get out. She smiled softly at him, climbing out of the car. "Thanks," she said.

Gendry's apartment was small but not too small. It was nice and felt homey. She had no doubt in her mind that he hated it, but Arya already loved it, from the small couch in the living room in front of the TV to the wooden table with four chairs, one on each side, pushed to the edge of the kitchen. Arya took off her coat, rubbing her hands together as she draped the coat across the arm of the couch.

As Gendry was walking to the couch, a door opened somewhere past the corner that disappeared into the hallway.

"Oh," a voice said from behind her. Arya turned around and found a boy she remembered vaguely, from the day she met Gendry the first day. She thought his name was Hot Pie, but she couldn't remember if she was right or wrong. However, he seemed to remember her. "You're Arya Stark, right?" he asked. "Yeah, Gendry's been hanging out with you a lot lately."

Gendry sat down on the couch, raising his eyebrows at Hot Pie and folding his hands behind his head.

Hot Pie looked between the two of them, at Gendry looking perfectly comfortable on the couch and Arya frozen by the arm of the couch, her hand still clutching her coat as she watched Hot Pie. Eventually, he shrugged and continued walking to the door. "Anyway, I'll be back later," he said with his back to them, the door already opening. "See you later."

Arya watched the door for a moment longer before turning back to Gendry and sitting down next to him. "Does he know?" she asked quietly, unsure why she was lowering her voice when they were, or at least she supposed they were, alone now.

Gendry nodded, not even asking what she was talking about. He already knew. "Yeah, he knows," he confirmed. Arya kept looking at him until he spoke again, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Hot Pie doesn't like asking questions," he said finally, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because he knows you don't like answering them?" she asked, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

Gendry didn't answer her. He just turned his head and cocked it to the side, studying her quietly. Arya stared back unflinchingly. Gendry reached out with one hand and put it to her cheek again, his thumb moving slightly over the spot just underneath her eye, and drew her in closer to him. Arya went without thinking, knowing already what was going to happen and anticipating it with excitement and a feeling of anxiety in her stomach. His lips brushed against hers and Arya felt a small shiver run up her spine, like the feeling you get when someone pokes you from behind by surprise.

Arya moved closer, leaning her head farther toward Gendry, but he pulled back, his blue eyes wide and searching. "Arya," he said quietly, the hand still on her cheek, the skin hot underneath his palm.

"Why'd you stop kissing me?" she asked.

His cheeks redden and he ducks his head, looking away from her. "Arya," he repeats, his voice stronger now. "I can't. . .I can't do this now. I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

Arya bursts out laughing. " _You_? Taking advantage of  _me_? How does that even make sense?"

"Because you — you're vulnerable right now and —"

" _I'm_  vulnerable?" Arya says incredulously. "If anything, I should feel like I'm taking advantage of you! You're the one who just lost a father." She scooted closer to Gendry and put her hand on his knee. "It's okay," she said quietly. "Gendry, it's okay."

Gendry turned to look at her fully now, his eyes running down her body and over her face, the irises thinning out as his eyes darkened. His hand jerked a little, tightening its hold for a fraction of a second before leaning in and kissing her again.

Arya sighed against his mouth and put one hand on the back of his neck, clutching the skin and the small hairs there tightly in her fist as she kissed him back. Their lips pressed against each other fiercely, and in the back of her mind, a faint memory tugged at the edges of her brain. A memory of rough kisses and rushed touches, hands stumbling over articles of clothing to get to bare skin, hushed words hissed against soft lips and drunken movement finding their way through the darkness.

She remembered that night fondly. But she knew that she would remember this one even more fondly when it was over.

Gendry's lips pushed harder into hers, moving her back against the arm of the couch. She felt her coat pillowing her head underneath her. Gendry's hands slid down her arms to her wrists, capturing them in his grip and tangling their fingers together before forcing them against the couch next to the sides of her head. Arya gasped into his mouth, a strangled and choked sound, before attaching their lips together again kissing him back with just as much force as he was putting on her. He let go of one of her wrists and slid his open palm down her right side, feeling the smooth material of her dress and gripping the hem in his fist, bunching the fabric together in his hand. Arya let out a small whimper in the back of his mouth and he hitched it farther up her thigh. In the back of his mind, he knew that if anyone found out, he'd be in trouble. But right now, he had Arya underneath him and she was completely willing and that's the only thing that mattered to him now.

Arya freed her other hand and began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, trying to get them off while keeping her eyes closed and her mouth latched on to his own. Gendry helped her, his own fingers finding their way through the shirt much more easily than she had. Once it was completely off, Gendry leaned back, separating their mouths, and Arya pushed the shirt off his shoulders. His chest was sharp and hard, years of working at the garage doing good for him. Arya, breathing heavily, propped herself up on her elbows, her hair hanging down her back and tangling up in the couch and in her dress as she stared at him.

"Arya," Gendry whispered, his knees on either side of her hips. "Are you sure?"

Arya bit her lip and blinked up at him, her chest still rising and falling faster than normal. But despite her racing heart beat and the nerves creeping up her spine, she nodded. "Yes," she said just as soft as he spoke.

Gendry took her hand in his again and pulled her up so their chests were pressed against each other and even though she was so much smaller than him, he managed to kiss her once more, leaning down as her neck stretched up and her head tilted towards him so they could reach each other.

His hands spread out across the planes of her back, his fingers stretching out wide along the dress. "Come with me," he said, his head turning from her mouth so he could whisper in her ear.

Arya followed him as he held her hand and walked down the hall to a room with a closed door at the end.

Gendry turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, Arya right on his heels. Abruptly, he let go of her hand and turned around, pushing her against the wall and kissing her roughly.

Arya couldn't breathe. She felt her pulse pounding in her throat, her heart racing in her chest. Gendry's hands disappeared behind her, yanking her dress's zipper down. It got caught in his haste, and he growled lowly in her ear as he tried to fix it. Finally, the dress was out of the way and all she was left in was her white bra and underwear. Her hair was messed up, falling over her shoulders and sticking up where Gendry had raked his hands through it. But he was looking at her in wonder and it would have been a horrible cliche if Arya wasn't looking at him the same way.

As Arya went to sit on the bed, Gendry's hands went to the button of his jeans now, popping it open and pulling the zipper down so they could fall down around his ankles. He stepped out of them once they were down and joined her on the bed, where she had propped herself up against the headboard, her back supported by pillows and her hands idly playing with the straps of her bra. "Arya," Gendry breathed. Arya looked up at him with hooded eyes, biting her lip nervously. "Have you. . .have you done this before?"

Arya hesitated for a second before nodding. "Yes," she said slowly. "Once. Last year." She didn't feel any obligation to give him a longer explanation — she liked him and all, but he didn't need details — so she just left it at that.

And Gendry, wonderful and sweet and beautiful Gendry, just nodded once and kissed her lightly on the lips. She only saw a little jealousy in his eyes, and she would have accused him of unneeded jealousy if she hadn't thought of any girls  _he'd_  been with in the past.

"You know I like you, right?" he said against her lips. She felt the words vibrate through her body as she nodded. "I'm not just doing this because of sex, Arya. I like you, a lot."

Arya grinned at him, her nails dragging up his bare chest and trailing across his shoulders and neck. "I'm glad we've established that," she murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Because I like you, too." Her lips touched his jawline. "I like everything about you." The spot just behind his ear. "I'm not just doing this for the sex, either," she said cheekily, nipping at his neck lightly and tightening her hold around his neck. Arya moved her legs so Gendry could slip in between them and wrapped them around his waist.

Gendry took off his boxers as Arya unclasped her bra and threw it to the floor next to the bed, and then slid her underwear down her legs before returning to their previous position. Arya let out a small gasp when their bodies touched and Gendry hesitantly reached down to touch her. Arya made a louder sound and her hand convulsed involuntarily against the bed sheets when he made contact. "Fuck," she sighed, her head leaning back against the pillows and looking up at the ceiling. He continued to move his hand against her and Arya grabbed his wrist to stop him. "No," she said. "I want to come with you." Her other hand took him in her hand and Gendry made a sound that was both a hiss and a groan before he reached for his dresser drawer to get a condom, hastily ripping the small package open and rolling it on.

"Gendry," Arya breathed, her hands going up to his face. "Please, I need. . .I need you"

Gendry kissed her as he slid inside her, swallowing the cry she made. "Are you okay?" he asks when she adjusts to the feeling of him inside her. She nods and then he's moving and Arya arches her back against him so she can get closer because that one time when she'd had sex did  _not_  feel like this. Not even close. She encourages him to go faster, to go harder, to do whatever he'd like as long as he keeps making her feel this good. And he does. Gendry buried his head in her neck and continued to move in and out of her, trying to keep up a steady rhythm as she clung to him like a vice.

"Oh!" Arya squeaked when his mouth found her breast, his hand going to the other, and her hand went to his hair to start pulling. She could feel that little spring in her stomach tightening with each thrust of Gendry's hips, coiling and coiling until he made one movement with his hips and bit down on the soft skin of her breast — and Arya made a hoarse scream as she felt herself peak.

" _Fuck_ ," Gendry hissed against her chest when his hips stuttered, and though Arya couldn't feel it, she knew he'd come, too.

She made a little noise of discomfort when he moved out of her, standing up to throw the condom in the trash. Arya's body was covered in a light layer of sweat, her breaths coming in short and fast bursts of air. Gendry walked back to the bed and crawled over to her on his knees, laying down next to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer into him.

Arya rested her head on his chest, listening to Gendry's own rapid heart beat.

It was only a little after noon, but she could feel her eyes slipping shut, and the steady and slowing pace of Gendry's heart was beginning to put her sleep. She was right on the brink when a loud ringing noise from another room startled her awake.

"Is that my phone?" she asked, sitting up. Gendry stood up and went back to the living room, coming back a few seconds later with Arya's blaring cell phone. He tossed it to her and Arya caught it easily, looking at the name there. She glanced at it and wrinkled her nose. "Hello?" she asked, trying to sound as casual and normal as she could.

"Arya?" Sansa said into the phone. Her voice was high-pitched and frantic, and Arya thought for a moment that something bad had happened again. "Arya, where are you?"

"I — I'm in Brooklyn, I'm with Gendry —"

"Well, you need to get back  _now_ ," Sansa said. Arya could tell she was moving fast right now if the distant sound of heels that were undeniably Sansa's were anything to go by. "Bran's awake."

Arya hung up the phone.

She didn't care that Sansa would probably end up yelling at her for that. She ended the call and tossed it to the other side of the bed, throwing the blanket off of her naked body so she could put her clothes back on. Gendry was trying to talk to her, asking questions and saying her name over and over again, but Arya could only focus on getting her zipper back up.

Rough hands moved hers out of the way and brought the zipper back up easily. "Thanks," Arya muttered distractedly, looking for her shoes.

"Arya," Gendry said urgently. "What happened?"

"Bran's awake. I have to get to the hospital."

"Oh!" Gendry exclaimed. "I-I'll drive you, give me a minute to get dressed —"

Arya left him in the room to wait in the living room on the couch, her knee bouncing anxiously. Bran was awake, and that was all that mattered right now.

. . .

"Arya!" Cat said loudly when she caught sight of her daughter running down the hallway of the hospital. Arya waved her off, throwing the door of Bran's hospital room open and bursting in, her eyes searching for his face.

Bran was sitting up on the bed, his back propped up by pillows. A doctor was by his bed along with Robb and Ned. Jon, Rickon, and Sansa were spread out around the room in various spots.

"Arya, you came!" Sansa said. "When you hung up, I thought. . ."

"That I wouldn't come to see Bran?" Arya scoffed, looking back to Bran. "Is he okay?"

Now the doctor turned to her. "His memory is fine, which is excellent, and everything is perfect. . .except for. . . ."

Arya blinked. "Except for what?" she asked. She felt a hand on her wrist and turned to find Gendry behind her, watching her carefully.

"Well, the fall — it damaged his body. He won't be able to walk anymore. Maybe with proper therapy, he'll be able to support himself on a crutch, but until then, he'll have to use a wheelchair and he won't ever be able to walk by himself again."

". . .Oh."

Cat was looking visibly upset about all of it, her arms crossed tightly and her mouth pinched.

"But he's going to be okay?" Arya asked, her breath hitching.

"Yes. He'll be released within the week," the doctor informed her.

Arya let out a small laugh, a smile breaking through her face. "Well, that's great, then! All that matters is that he's awake, right?"

"Arya," Sansa said sharply. "Go to the kitchen and get us some fruit, will you, please? I'm starved."

Arya glanced at her sister curiously, her eyebrows pinching together. But she went without argument. She knew without looking that Gendry was following her.

"He's going to be okay," Gendry said.

"Oh, I know. Even though he won't be able to walk. . .well, Bran is very ambitious. He'll throw himself into physical therapy." She thought of Willas Tyrell and how he supported himself with a cane. "He'll be just fine."

The walk to the visitors' kitchens was quiet, and when they were prepared to go back, Gendry told Arya he was going to head to the bathroom and then go home. Arya managed to sneak a quick peck on the lips in between promises of calling him when new news came along and to tell him when she got home. Loaded with small bowls and cups of fruit, Arya made her way down the halls of the hospital to get back to Bran's room.

Someone knocked into her, almost sending her fruit flying. The guy was already hurrying away, and Arya turned to say something — but when she caught sight of his back, she froze. She'd recognize that hair anywhere, that short and blonde — almost white — hair that she had seen every day at the Hamptons. There was no way.

Aegon Targaryen was back in Manhattan.


	18. All Falls Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the newest chapter! I hope you all like it. I don't know why, but listening to the Cinderella 2015 trailer music ("Aeon" by Nick Murray and "Above and Beyond" from Audiomachine) just really gave me a lot of inspiration so that's what I listened to while this was written. I also listened to "Alive" by Sia, and "I Want it That Way" by the Backstreet Boys.

**WELCOME HOME, BRAN STARK!**

_It was a lovely day for the immediate family of one Bran Stark (18), who was just released from the hospital yesterday after finally waking up from his coma of almost a month. His parents and siblings all arrived to the hospital to take him home, looking pleased as ever._

_Bran will no longer be able to walk, a new piece of information that had been revealed to us by Bran's mother, Catelyn Tully-Stark, when she agreed to say a few words to the press about the much anticipated return of her beloved son to his home. "We're all very excited that Bran is going to be coming back home. Even though his fall has left him unable to walk by himself ever again, it makes no difference to us. We just want to take him home and keep him safe."_

_November has definitely been a wild month for the Stark family. Mere weeks after Bran's sudden accident, Robert Baratheon, our very own governor, was shot and killed at the Governor's Ball, a tragedy that wracked Manhattan to its very core. The patriarch of the Stark family, Eddard Stark, had been the best of friends with Robert since they were children, and being there when he was killed must have made him feel like a small part of himself was dying inside, too. All the Starks were present at the funeral, except for Bran, who woke up later that day._

_Now that Bran is awake, one has to question his next moves. He was supposed to be traveling to Europe to study abroad for his first year at college before he fell out of the fourth-story window in Renly Baratheon's Long Island estate at his birthday party back in October. His flight was only three days away. Oh, how the mighty have fallen._

_We managed to get a few words from Bran as he was being wheeled away from the hospital and into the crowd that had formed to see him make his grand return to the real world yesterday. "I won't be going to Europe anymore," he said, and it might have just been us, but we could have sworn he looked bitter and dejected about the whole thing. "My health, as both my doctor and my mother have managed to explain to me, is very fragile right now and leaving for a whole year, or even getting on a plane when I've just woken up, is highly unadvised by everyone."_

_This is the first time we've been able to see much of the Stark family since Bran was rendered unconscious at the birthday party. They have been keeping to themselves mostly, and the death of their childhood friend did not help one bit. They've either been staying inside their house, visiting Bran at the hospital, or going to work or school. But things seem to be looking up for the whole family. Now that Bran has returned home and Robert has been buried and bidden farewell to, maybe they'll be able to manage some kind of piece and quiet, and go back to their old selves. Besides, there are many things to look forward to: Robb Stark (25) and his wife of two months Jeyne Westerling (24) have moved into their own nice house in the Upper East Side, close to their family and close to work, and Sansa Stark (22) is due to be married to her longtime boyfriend of seven years and fiance of four months, Joffrey Baratheon (22) in June._

_We wish the best for the Stark family and the Baratheon family, and hope that they find the peace that has been sorely lacking in their lives over the past few months. We are eagerly awaiting what comes next for these two families._

Arya tossed the newspaper to the side, watching it slid across the glass table in the living room with a small smile tipping her lips up. Finally,  _finally_ , the papers had given off an article that she liked for the most part. The brief mention of Sansa and Joffrey's approaching wedding made her teeth grind, but it was only a sentence, and everything else was about Bran and his safe and much-anticipated return to his own home.

But when she thought about the hospital. . . .

All she could think about was seeing Aegon Targaryen. Or, thinking that she saw Aegon Targaryen. Because there was no way she imagined that, was there?

She remembered Aegon. She remembered everything about him and that  _was_  him. But if he was back, why didn't she know?

She had thought that she would be one of the first people to know when Aegon and Dany were coming home. . .she had thought they trusted her.

Her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her shorts, and she dug it out, sliding it open.

_Sansa: Don't forget about dinner tonight. Come to Robb and Jeyne's soon. xx_

Arya let her breath out through her teeth, wrinkling her nose at the screen. Apparently, Robb and Jeyne had big news to tell everyone tonight and decided to have a dinner at their new house for them to announce it. She was already making a list in her head about all the possibilities they could bring up tonight. Pregnancies, traveling the world, starting their own business. . .now  _that_  would be a shocker, Arya thought, for Robb to leave Ned's business and start one of his own.

She stood up from the couch and went upstairs to her room, throwing open the doors of her closet and pulling out a green tank top with jeans. Her phone buzzed again from her bed and Arya went to lay down on her stomach on the mattress.

_Gendry: Are you able to come over tonight?_

Arya hid her smile behind her fingers as she bit her lip and ducked her head, even though she knew no one was around her to try and sneak a look at her phone and see who she was texting.

_Arya: Can't. Dinner tonight at Jeyne + Robb_

Arya had been seeing Gendry for the past week, ever since the day Bran woke up, but had refused to tell anyone about it yet. When he tried to push her for answers, she listed off a bunch of them: Age differences, her family issues,  _his_  family issues, the press, and a whole lot more. It had resulted in an hour-long fight with Gendry begging her to tell her parents and Arya refusing to do so stubbornly, and ended with them simply breaking the fight by having sex in his bed.

It wasn't the most effective way to solve a problem, and the issue was looming over Arya's head like a dark storm cloud that just wouldn't leave her alone, but it had been working fine. All she had to do to get Gendry to be quiet was take off her shirt.

"Arya?"

Arya heard her name from a floor below her, but still chucked her phone to the side and jumped up from her bed as fast as she could.

"I'm changing!" she yelled back, ripping off her sweater and yanking on the tank top with the jeans.

A second later, Jon poked his head into the room, a small smile on his face. "Hey," he said. "You wanna get a ride to Robb's with me and Ygritte?" He sounded a little hesitant to speak, and Arya immediately understood why.

"You're bringing Ygritte?" Arya asked, thinking back to the pretty redhead Jon had been talking to since the engagement party.

Jon looked down, nodding his curly head. "Yep. You don't think anyone will mind, right?"

Arya shook her head. "No, of course not. Mom and Dad probably want you out of the house as soon as possible."

Jon stiffened, and Arya froze. "I didn't. . .fuck, I didn't mean it like that."

But the damage was already done. Jon refused to look her in the eye. "It's alright," he said, thought it was obvious that it wasn't alright. "Be ready soon, okay?"

Arya opened her mouth to say something but Jon had already left.

If Gendry were here, this would be the part where she'd turn around and hug him until she felt safe.

Jon's birth had always been a difficult situation in the house. The press made a big deal out of it whenever they saw an opportunity, and it only caused more stress in the family. Ned's affair with a mystery woman he refused to talk about to anyone, including Cat, hung over the Stark family, its presence constant and unwavering and while you might occasionally forget it was there because you were smiling a bit more than normal, it would always be there to remind you that the reality was the life this family led would always be surrounded by rumors and scandal and never-ending articles about their past mistakes, no matter how long ago they occurred.

Arya thought if Ygritte understood how Jon felt. She had no idea what her family life was like, or anything about her except for the fact that she was very sarcastic and blunt and liked to tell Jon he was oblivious as a rock, but she wondered if she and Jon would lay in bed together and tell each other about their personal problems. She liked to imagine Ygritte was attentive and would listen intently as Jon spoke about how Cat ignored him when he was in the room, how the papers made him out to be the bad guy in a situation he had no say in, how he felt like a stranger in his own home.

Because no matter how much Arya tried to deny it, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that Jon was okay and when he had his bad days, he could always come talk to her, she knew that she'd never understand how he felt. She could listen, she could try to give him advice, but she'd never understood.

And it killed her.

Arya shook herself out of her thoughts and put on her sneakers on before walking out of her room, going down the hall and knocking on Jon's door. "Hey," she said softly, leaning against the doorjamb. "I'm ready to go whenever you are," she told him, folding her arms across her chest and looking at him sitting at his desk, head bent over a notebook.

He nodded absentmindedly. "I'll be downstairs in a few minutes. Just meet me in the car. It's in front of the building," he replied, already standing up and taking his jacket from the back of the chair.

Arya walked out of the house, snatching her own jacket as she went and shrugging it on while she walked out to Jon's car. November was when New York got colder by the minute, and Arya was looking forward to the time when snow covered the streets and she could stay locked inside the house all day.

Jon found Arya waiting by the passenger door, her hands stuffed in her pockets.

"Ready?" he asked, opening the door.

Arya didn't answer; she just slid in the car and turned on the heater.

"Ygritte lives a few minutes away, but we'll be there in time."

And they were. The car ride was silent, and neither Jon nor Arya bothered turning on the radio so the only sound was the faint echo of the wheels on the road from outside the car. She was grateful when Jon pulled up to a tall apartment building and stopped the car.

Ygritte had already been waiting in the lobby of the building and when she saw Jon's car pull up, she walked over to the car and gave Jon a kiss on the lips through the window. Arya got out of the front seat so she could sit next to him and went to the back of the car.

"Hi, Arya," Ygritte said to her, smiling over the headrest as Jon began driving again towards Robb and Jeyne's house. Arya smiled tightly back at her, saying a quick hello in response.

Everyone was already waiting at Robb and Jeyne's house, and Jon wasn't the only one who had brought company of his own. Sansa was sitting next to Joffrey on the black couch, and Meera was trying not to make it too obvious that she was fussing over Bran. When Jeyne saw the three of them walk in together, she left her spot next to Cat and Robb and went over to hug them each, smiling brightly.

"Hi!" she said excitedly. Arya had never seen Jeyne so giddy or bubbly, and she had a feeling it had a lot to do with the announcement they had all traveled here to hear about.

Arya made herself comfortable at one of the tall stools by the kitchen island, talking with Jeyne and Robb, surveying the rest of her family and how they had spread themselves out across the living room and kitchen.

Robb and Jeyne had done a good job setting up the place. It was a two-floor loft that had taken them almost two months to decorate, and they had spent the entire time sleeping on a mattress set up on the floor while interior designers came in and out and consulted with them about furniture and paint colors. It had seemed very adorable, exactly like what a "newly wedded couple" would do in a sitcom, but then Arya remembered most newly married couples in sitcoms weren't filthy rich on both sides of the marriage. If they had wanted, they could have rented out a studio apartment to stay in while they decorated their home.

"So, Arya," Jeyne asked as she sipped her glass of water. As she did, Arya's eyes flickered to the bottle of champagne everyone but Jeyne was drinking from.

"Yes?" she responded as politely and calmly as she could.

"How's college?"

Arya shrugged. "It's okay. I'm mostly just taking dance classes right now. I finished a lot of my courses in high school so I could focus on dancing."

She had thought of the possibility of a pregnancy earlier today, but the thought of it becoming a reality made a shiver run down Arya's spine. She didn't listen as Jeyne talked about her time at college (Her and Robb had been going out during that time, anyway, she remembered Jeyne very well while she had been in school) and instead focused on looking for other clues that she was having a baby.

"Oh!" Jeyne exclaimed.  _Was flustered behavior a sign of pregnancy_ , Arya thought. "Dinner's ready! We should all sit down."

When everyone was seated at the dining room table, Arya felt very lonely despite being next to Robb and Bran and across from Rickon. She wished Gendry were here, but her own stubborness refused to let her tell people about him.

Sansa had Joffrey, Bran had Meera, Ned had Cat, Robb had Jeyne, and Jon had Ygritte, and they were all happy despite the odds always playing against them. Well, Arya had many suspicions about Sansa and Joffrey's state of contentment, but Sansa adamantly promised everyone she was as happy as she could be. But all of them had suffered through some kind of challenge, or even more than one challenge, and nothing had come in between them permanently as of yet.

Why couldn't she just suck it up and be with Gendry for real?

Arya was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn't even hear Jeyne make the announcement.

"Arya!" Cat called to her from the other side of the table. "Didn't you hear?"

Arya raised her eyebrows. "Hmm? I'm sorry, I must have spaced out."

"Arya, your sister-in-law is pregnant. She's going to have a baby!"

Arya laughed. "Well, congratulations, but I thought everyone already knew that by now. It was pretty obvious with the way you've been acting lately," she said to Jeyne pointedly.

"When did you become an expert on pregnancy?" Sansa asked.

"If not drinking wine  _at all_  and practically glowing every second of the day is considered being an expert. . . ." Arya shrugged.

Jeyne was looking considerably flushed, obviously worrying if anyone else had noticed she was pregnant. Sansa was quick to reassure her. "It's okay, Jeyne. You can't be that far along, right?"

"Only two weeks."

"Well, then, no one should be able to notice unless they spend a lot of time with you. You're still gonna be able to share the big announcement with everyone as a surprise."

The conversation didn't waver from Jeyne and Robb's new baby news after Sansa had managed to calm Jeyne down. Cat immediately started giving Jeyne tips and hints about going through pregnancy and having a child (After having five children, she considered herself to be a kind of expert on kids), and Arya wouldn't have been surprised if Jeyne pulled out a notepad and pen to write everything down. Ned, too, was giving off advice on how to handle a pregnant wife, though this seemed to be less helpful because Robb definitely looked like he was going to start freaking out when he had just looked as happy as possible when Jeyne had first told the family they were going to have a baby.

After Jon announced that he and Ygritte were going to head out, Arya stood and asked if he wouldn't mind driving her home.

Jon simply nodded and beckoned her out the door. She didn't know if he was still upset about earlier, but she hoped he wasn't. She'd talk to him tonight when they got back to the house, she decided.

Arya kissed Jeyne on the cheek and hugged Sansa and her mother, bidding everyone else in the room goodbye before leaving with Jon and Ygritte. Once again, the car ride was silent. Jon dropped Ygritte off at her apartment, and Arya looked away when they kissed goodbye. It was long and soft and it looked like a kiss Arya would have loved to take part in with Gendry.

Arya went back to the front seat once Ygritte was inside the building, and reached her hand over the small compartment that separated their two seats, her palm open and facing upwards in a silent invitation. Jon's eyes flickered over to her extended arm for half a second before putting his hand in hers, his other hand resting on the steering wheel as he drove. "I'm sorry," Arya said quietly, staring straight ahead at the darkening sky. "I didn't mean to offend you. Sometimes, it's. . .hard, and I forget. I forget what you have to go through every day. I just forget, and I wish I didn't." She tightened her hand around Jon's fingers, and he squeezed back, and even though they weren't looking at each other, they knew that if they turned their heads, they'd see acceptance and forgiveness and even a bit of sorrow mixed with sympathy in their gazes.

. . .

"Gendry?" Arya asked from her spot perched on the kitchen counter, licking a bit of vanilla icing off her index finger. She cleaned the sugary frosting off her finger before continuing. "Have you spoken to Renly at all lately?"

Gendry shook his head. He was leaning against the counter opposite hers, arms folded and eyes focused on her finger. "Nope," he said, popping the  _P_.

"Why not?"

"Why should I have talked to him?"

Arya raised her eyebrows, digging her finger back in the small tub of icing. "Because he offered to bring you up as his own family. Because you joining Renly could be a huge thing for you."

Gendry shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I just. . .I'm worried." He saw the curious and concerned look in Arya's face and pushed himself off the counter, walking over to her and taking the tub of icing out of her hands so he could wrap his arms around her waist. "Sometimes it just feels like it's too good to be true, you know? Because I know that this is a great opportunity for me, and I know that I should be out there mourning the loss of my father like everybody else, but I'm scared it's just going to disappear the second I believe it's real."

Arya linked her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. "Gendry," she whispered. "There's nothing for you to be afraid of.  _This_ ," she said, gesturing to the small apartment around her. "This isn't what you were meant for. You weren't meant for a shitty apartment in Brooklyn while your shitty job is in Manhattan where you get paid a shitty salary. You were meant for so much more than that, and if Robert Baratheon had been a better man, he would have given you everything you deserved."

"And what do I deserve, Arya?" Gendry asked. "Do I deserve to have reporters following my every move? Do I deserve to not have a personal life anymore, to have to give that up, because every aspect of it is being announced to the world? Is that what I deserve? For people to measure me for tuxes and suits I'm only going to wear once in my entire life because I'll always have an endless selection of them, for waiters to bring me glasses of champagne and cooks and maids to take care of my own home? Because if that's what I deserve, I'm not sure that's what I even want, Arya."

Arya felt hurt. His words  _stung_ , if she was being honest with herself. He had thrown those words around carelessly, knowing fully well that she lived in that world. And whether he liked it or not, he was a part of that same world now, too. Not only because of his association with her, but because of his parentage, and he would have to accept that it would never go back to the simple and and quiet way it had been before. Arya never liked the expectations and restrictions her lifestyle came with, but she was forced to live through it if she wanted to keep her life. And she  _liked_  her life. It was hectic and it was chaotic and there was hardly ever a moment of peace and quiet when people were always staring at you on the street and someone was always knocking on your door or calling your phone for an interview or photoshoot, but Arya  _loved_  her life. The dresses were a pain and the events were a bore but she embraced every part of it all. She knew she'd be miserable and lost and completely alone if someone took it all away from her.

"Gendry, you're a part of this world now, too, you know," she said. "The questions are never going to stop. The interviews will never slow down. Everyone will always want a statement from you. And if there's a chance that someone from the family you never even knew you had  _wants_  you, don't you think you owe it to yourself to take that chance."

"Arya," Gendry whispered, framing her face with his hands. They were so big, she felt like she would be swallowed by them. "The only chance I wanted since meeting you, was the chance to get to know you better. To have a shot with you. And I got that chance. It's the only chance I needed, the only one I wanted. I don't need any other chances. And yes, I'm probably going to talk to Renly about his offer to live with him, and yes, he'll probably give some pretty good arguments saying why I should accept it, but right now. . .I can't be bothered with that. Because you come first to me right now."

Arya leaned back from his embrace, the back of her neck and head thumping against the cabinets that lined the wall. She offered Gendry a small smile in return, a nervous and jittery feeling awakening in the pit of her stomach and flying all the way up to her chest and then to her throat. "You come first to me, too," she said.

. . .

"Hello, this is Arya Stark calling. I'm trying to get a hold of Renly Baratheon, I'm a family friend. Is he available right now?" Arya spoke into the phone as she hitched her bag higher up her shoulder, walking down the street without really paying attention to where she was going.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Baratheon isn't available right now," his secretary said politely. "I can leave a message, if you'd like?"

Arya bit her lip, thinking for a moment.

"Ma'am?" the woman said after a moment of silence.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "Um, no, thank you. Just tell him Arya Stark called him and needs to speak with him whenever he's available."

She hung up the phone and dropped it in her bag, continuing her way back to her house when she heard her name being called out. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, but found no one behind her. Scanning the street, she caught sight of a familiar face across the street, and her stomach dropped.

Aegon crossed the street quickly, and Arya just continued standing there, her lips parted and her eyes wide in shock.

"Arya," he said breathlessly, a smirk dancing on the edges of his lips. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Arya smiled back. "Um, yeah, it has been," she said, looking around her surroundings. "You're back in Manhattan? Where-where's Dany?" she asked, checking again to see if Daenerys was with him.

"She's settling into our apartment," Aegon informed her, his eyes lighting up when he said the words. He searched her face for a reaction, obviously trying to prompt some kind of feeling from her.

He succeeded. Arya blanched, her eyes widening even further. "Your apartment," she repeated. "Like. . .your apartment here? You and Dany have an apartment, here in Manhattan?"

Aegon laughed, that charming and familiar laugh making Arya's insides twist. She wasn't sure if it was pleasant or otherwise. "Yes, we have an apartment here in Manhattan."

"So that must mean. . ." Arya trailed off, looking down at the ground and toeing the sidewalk's concrete. "So that must mean that you guys are back, just like you said you'd be. You're back in the city for good."

Aegon nodded cheerfully. "Yup," he said, and it sounded so childlike and optimistic to Arya's ears. "We're not going to make our presence known just yet, though, so if you could. . .keep it quiet for now, that would be great."

Arya could do nothing but nod. Aegon's smile grew wider. "Thanks, Arya. I'll be seeing you around pretty soon, I guess." He put his hand on her arm and leaned in, kissing her cheek before walking away. The action seemed to be meant for people who were more familiar with each other, but Aegon had always been one for pushing limits.

Arya tucked her hair behind her ears, rushing down the sidewalk as she tried to get to her house faster than before. She had told Aegon she wouldn't say anything, but she couldn't keep it from Ned. Never from her father. He needed to know the Targaryens were back.

She neared her building, and immediately knew something was wrong. She slowed her pace down, coming to a full stop as she approached the door. Reporters were everywhere, trailing down the block and blocking the door. Arya took a deep breath and shoved her way through the swarm of journalists and gossip columnists and reporters, ignoring the questions they threw at her, too distracted and overwhelmed to hear anything they were even saying. She got through the door and immediately closed it in their faces, not letting a single person through.

"Do not even think about letting them in here," she warned the doorman threateningly as she passed by him, walking past his desk and going up to the elevator that brought her home. She walked through the front door and was met with the sight of her family sitting in the living room, still as if they were posing for a photograph.

Ned and Cat were sitting on the couch, holding hands tightly. Robb was with Jeyne, her head resting on his shoulder as they sat on the armrest of the couch. Bran was perched in his wheelchair, Meera rubbing his hand soothingly. Rickon was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, staring straight ahead. And Jon was sitting in an armchair, slumped down with messy hair and tired eyes.

But Sansa. . . .

Sansa wasn't there.

"Where's Sansa?" Arya asked, closing the door behind her warily. She walked further into the room cautiously, a knot forming in her stomach.

"Where were you, Arya?" Cat exclaimed in a breathless yell, gripping Ned's hand tighter.

" _Where's Sansa_?" Arya repeated with more emphasis.

"Sansa. . ." Jon began from the armchair, rubbing his face. "Sansa is gone. And we don't know where she is."


	19. The Amazing Race

** THE HEIR TO THE BARATHEON EMPIRE SPEAKS OUT **

_The end of November brought many surprises to the attention of the world, courtesy of the famous Upper East Siders who entertain us daily with the news and updates of their lives._

_There was the highly emotional and heartwarming funeral of our former late governor, Robert Baratheon, which had many people in tears by the end. The sudden disappearance of Sansa Stark, who has yet to turn up and is starting to cause concern among not only New Yorkers, but people around the country who are constantly wondering where everyone's favorite debutante has gone. Then there was this gem: Gendry Waters (25), Robert Baratheon's confirmed illegitimate child, finally spoke up regarding his lineage, the family he grew up, the life he leads now, and most importantly, the offer his uncle Renly Baratheon has offered him to add him to his own family._

_Renly Baratheon took over the business side of the family while Robert took charge in the political area, and he seems to have taken a liking to his deceased brother's oldest son, Gendry. He publicly made a statement expressing his desire to include Gendry in the family, and went as far as to promise he'd name him in his will so he could take over the family business when he died and offer him a spot in his home in Long Island. And up until now, Gendry has remained very quiet about the whole ordeal. But he's finally decided to speak up._

_That's right, everybody. We've finally managed it After months of trying and pleading and begging, we've managed to get the mysterious and much talked about surprise son of Robert Baratheon to open up and give a few words. He'd agreed to an interview with us, and we're going to share all the information he gave us with you._

_"I've never had a real family," he began. "I had my mother, but she died when I was very young, barely even a teenager, and I had to grow up all by myself. I never knew my father. She wouldn't tell me, always promised she would when I was older but obviously. . .that never happened. So I spent my whole life waiting for someone to tell me the truth. And now that I have it, it's kind of bittersweet, ya know? Like, I spent years being angry at this man who never took the time to even tell me he knew I existed, but I also craved knowing who he was because I wanted a father figure in my life since I never had that. And now everything's out in the open, and I just felt. . .betrayed when I found out. Like, you've been there this whole time. And you never said anything."_

_One can't help but feel immense pity for Mr. Gendry Waters. To live your whole life wondering who your father was, the other half of the pair that created you, must feel horrible. We were definitely feeling his emotion through each word he said. But the words that came out of his mouth was what really shocked us. "I know that Renly Baratheon has made me an offer to join him in his home in Long Island, and I know that he wants to add me to his will so he can teach me about the business that he runs and prepare me to take over the business when he passes away. And it's such a great offer. I know what everyone wants me to do, and I know what I want to do, so I'm completely confidant in my decision to accept his offer."_

_We are very happy for Gendry Waters and his decision to join the Baratheon family as an official member. Though he won't be with his father's wife and half-brothers, he'll still be with his family, and that's got to mean something._

**WHERE HAS SANSA STARK GONE?**

_When we first heard the news that Sansa Stark (22) was missing, we weren't all that worried. We got reports that her parents had filed a missing person's report and called the police at 11:38pm after trying to call her cell phone with no response, sent out texts which were left unanswered, and contacted her closest friends who were oblivious. But it couldn't be that serious! It had only been one night that she hadn't come home, and who knows? Maybe she was with her fiancee, Joffrey Baratheon. The trouble, however, came the next day. When there was still no sign of her 24 hours later, it wasn't only us that were worried, but all of New York._

_Sansa Stark has been missing for a week and we have no idea where she could be. The family is desperate for answers and must be thinking the exact same thing as everybody else: This is not how Sansa Stark would act. That thought puts even more worry in our minds, while if it had been Sansa's younger sister Arya Stark (19) who had disappeared for a day, no one would be terribly concerned because this has been done before. Sansa, however, has never pulled a disappearing act._

_There's desperation in the air as the Stark family searches for their beloved oldest female child relentlessly. This is one of the most horrifying stories the Upper East Side has heard since Bran Stark fell from Renly Baratheon's window, or when Robert Baratheon was shot dead and there are still no suspects as to who could have committed the crime! The entire family seems to be relying on the old "No news is good news" theory, but who knows how long that might prove to be helpful when they're so obviously yearning to see their daughter return home to them safe and sound._

_The Starks hosted a press conference with the NYPD, where each family member made a statement about Sansa. Arya looked particularly distressed, probably the worst we've ever seen her look. We've never seen her so hopeless: Messy hair, tears in her eyes and down her face. Poor thing._

_"Please, if anybody has any information about where Sansa could be, even if it's just a hunch. . .please just come to us, or contact us at our father's office, Stark Industries."_

_The numbers and contact information were posted on a billboard, which is seen on the picture (inset)._

_Arya wasn't the only one who spoke. Jon (24), Sansa's half-brother and the product of Ned Stark and an unknown woman he had an affair with, also spoke. "It's terrifying. She's my sister, the one who I love more than anything. Even though we're not close, we're family and I just want to have her home safe and sound. And now that she's missing, I just. . ." He was unable to finish his sentence, choking up right on the live news feed. Arya and Jon's new girlfriend, Ygritte, comforted him on the side while the rest of the family members expressed their feelings and begged everyone to notify them in any way they could if news of Sansa's whereabouts were uncovered._

_Catelyn Stark, Sansa's mother, also looked very worried throughout the whole event. She was hardly able to get out more than two sentences. "I just want to thank everyone for being so supportive of our request for privacy during this difficult time, and for keeping Sansa and her safe return in their prayers."_

_Ned Stark was all business as he addressed the public on his efforts to bring his oldest daughter home. "We have investigators searching for her and talking to her friends and close relatives to see if they have any information on where she has been in the last 24 hours we saw her. So far, no one has news but we're all just hoping for the best, and right now, the best is having Sansa safe in our arms again. We've dealt with so much the past few months and all we want now is to have a quiet and safe reunion with our daughter." At this, he turned away, unable to continue as his own feelings became too much for him. "I just want Sansa home. I want my daughter, my little girl, home with us where she belongs. As my wife Cat said, we thank you all for respecting our privacy and for helping us in any way you can. Thank you."_

_And that was the end of it. It seems so unlikely for Sansa to run off; she had everything going for her! A fiancee who loves her, a wedding in only seven months, and a family who loves her and just wants to see her come home again. We're all worried sick with no news of Sansa's whereabouts coming up at all, but everybody is trying their hardest to keep their spirits high._

_We'll be posting updates on this 24/7 on our website as soon as they come in. Someone will always be giving any new information. Our most sincerest and genuine condolences and best wishes go out to the Stark family. We are all hoping and praying for the safe and healthy return of Sansa Stark. It's a true shame._

. . .

Arya threw her phone to the other side of the bed and buried her head in her hands.

Never had she ever wanted so desperately to hear Sansa's high-pitched, girlish voice in her ear up until this moment. It had been a week. A week of texting Sansa if she was alright, of calling her and leaving choked-up voice messages and stalking her Instagram so she'd remember what exact shade of bright orange her hair was, or which necklace she wore most often.

Arya Stark missed her sister terribly, and she had no problem admitting it to the world. She just wanted her home, where she could hug her and apologize for being so nasty in the past months.

This wasn't Sansa. Sansa loved being home, she loved baking cakes and cookies for no reason other than she wanted to make sure there were always snacks in the house when the cooks were on holiday, and she liked calling them at random points in the day to " _Check up on them_ " and make sure they were alright.

Sansa Stark did not abandon her family or run away for no reason without giving a hint that she was going to do so.

"Arya, you need to relax."

Arya glared up at Gendry, her eyes narrowing.

"I can't relax!" she said. "My sister has been kidnapped."

"We don't know that she's been kidnapped for sure yet," he said soothingly, rubbing her back with his open palm.

"She's been gone for a week with no notice to  _anybody_  yet. If she were okay, she would have seen us all on the news and come running back to us as fast as she could and apologize for making us worry ourselves sick."

Gendry crawled over to her on his hands and knees and leaned his body against her side, wrapping his arm around her middle and dragging her down to lay on his bed with her. "Shh," he said, kissing her softly on her temple. "I'm sure everything will work itself out in the end."

Arya had been using Gendry as her stress outlet ever since Sansa had officially been announced as missing when she hadn't been spotted by anybody in 24 hours last week. The first thing she had done after the press conference was race over to Gendry's apartment, now cluttered with boxes filled with his stuff, and pull him into his bedroom.

Arya isn't sure how Gendry feels about it, to be honest. He must be glad about getting sex, but she knows he likes to  _talk_  and  _share_  and all that stuff. Arya had never been the kind of girl who liked to do those kind of things, but she made an effort with Gendry because in his mind, if you didn't talk, you were bottling things up and there would be an inevitable breakdown. So whenever they finished their bout of sex, she would curl up against his side and tell him stories of Sansa and her childhood.

"One time, when I was thirteen, my parents brought me to my first fitting. We were doing a charity ball and because I had just turned thirteen, they wanted to celebrate me becoming a teenager by getting me my first custom-made gown. And so after we went to breakfast together, I was standing on the podium in the fitting room at Givenchy and Sansa, who had just turned sixteen, had already picked out her dress and bought it. And my mother was sitting on the chair drinking champagne and we were just looking at colors and fabrics and it was such a  _normal_  day for everybody who lived in my world. And that day. . .I don't know, I just really loved that day. Because I was sitting with my mother and my sister and we were bonding about things daughters and mothers and sisters should bond over, and afterwards we went to lunch and we just had a day to ourselves. And I  _loved_  that day. And now I can't help but feel that after that day, all my actions, all the things I did and said on camera, it ruined it. It ruined my relationship with them."

Gendry rested his forehead against Arya's bare collarbone, kissing it softly. "Arya," he said, "that wasn't your fault."

"But isn't it? I grew up and I went out to parties and clubs when I wasn't supposed to, and I had boyfriends they never approved of and said inappropriate things on-camera and I  _ruined_  my relationship with my mother and my sister. I'm the party girl of Manhattan and it ruined us."

"Your mother couldn't accept the thought of you being anything other than perfect. You are the exact opposite of perfect, and that's what everyone loves about you, including me. You're all passion and fire and  _everything_ , and it's why everyone falls in love with you."

Arya was seconds away from asking " _Have you_?" but held her tongue. It was too soon for that.

So she just moved closer to Gendry and threw her leg over his waist, climbing on top of him and rising up on his body so she was straddling his waist, the covers she had buried herself under falling off the backs of her shoulders.

"Enough talking," she said, and shushed him with a kiss, her hands already lowering to his hipbones.

Sex for them is usually a very talkative affair. It's filled with hushed whispers against skin and gasped encouragements. Whenever Gendry goes down on Arya, it's normally accompanied by him telling her how much he loves to do this to her and Arya is always hissing how he " _knows how to fucking treat a lady right_ ". And whenever she returns the favor, Gendry really can't form many words, but when he does, he doesn't shut up about how he would worship what her mouth could do if it were possible.

This time is no different. Arya is already making little sounds in the back of her throat that always makes Gendry go crazy.

"Arya, love, look at me," he whispered into her arm, turning his head to the side to press his lips to the spot.

She looks down at him, her forehead resting against his as she turns his head towards her and kisses him.

They make love slowly now, so different and much more tender after their fast and rushed coupling they had experienced less than an hour ago. At one point, Gendry sits up and wraps his arms around Arya's bare back, holding her close to him as they kiss languidly.

Afterwards, Arya lays across Gendry's chest, the fingers on her right hand tracing idle patterns on his chest and arm while her left hand rested on the sheets of the bed.

"When are you gonna move into Renly's house?" she asked.

"I'm almost packed up. I'll be gone within the week."

"What does Hot Pie think about you moving?"

"He's upset I'm leaving. But we're gonna make it work."

"And what about your job at the garage?" Arya asked, tipping her head up towards him and resting her chin on his chest, cocking her head at him. "Are you gonna quit?"

"Already did."

That took Arya by surprise. She didn't know that Gendry had quit his job, and she wondered if he was going to look for another one or just work for Renly. "Oh. When did you quit?" she asked.

"Yesterday. Didn't get a chance to tell you."

Arya flushed. They hadn't done much talking when Arya came by yesterday.

"Sorry about that," she said, looking down so she could avoid his eyes. "I'll be better, I promise. I just. . .I've been really stressed out these past few days," she said quietly.

Gendry snorted. "Please. Don't apologize for that."

Arya smirked. "You mean for attacking you with sex?"

"Exactly. Why would you apologize for that?"

"Figured you wanted to talk more than bang."

"Oh, I love talking. But I love talking with you when you're dressed in lace even more."

"I'll make sure to remember that for the next time I come see you."

Gendry paused. "How are we going to make this work when I go to Renly?"

Arya sighed. She knew what he wanted her to say. That they would tell everyone they were dating by that time. But she couldn't.

Not yet.

"We'll make it work," she said instead, rolling off his chest and burying herself under the blanket once more.

Gendry's eyebrows furrowed but he didn't answer.

"Alright. We'll make it work."

Arya gave him a grateful smile and held the blanket up so he could join her.

It was only one in the afternoon, but when Gendry and Arya cuddled under the blanket, they fell asleep easily in each other's arms, disappearing off into far away worlds where birth didn't matter and kidnapping was no issue.

. . .

Arya sat down with her family at the dinner table, smiling stiffly as the cook set a plate of steak with a side of Caesar salad in front of her on the place mat. She hadn't been home all day, wasting the day away with Gendry in his apartment, having sex and eating the food in his fridge and helping him pack the last of his things into boxes to be moved into Renly's house as soon as possible. And now that she was here, eating dinner with her family for the first time in what felt like forever, she realized how long it had been since she had sat down with them. She had been spending so much time with Gendry that she hadn't noticed how distant she had seemed to them. What a horrible thing to do, especially when they needed her most now more than ever.

"So, Arya," her mother started, cutting off a small piece of steak and biting it off her fork. "How's school?"

Arya shrugged. "It's good. Is there any news of Sansa?" she asked, throwing away any thoughts of small talk.

Catelyn tensed visibly, but she didn't care.

"Not yet, Arya," Ned said, his fingers tightening his fork.

"Well, she's been missing for a week. Someone must have some information."

Arya was getting impatient, and with good, and obvious, reason. Sansa was her sister, and she loved her more than anything despite their fights and disagreements. If Arya got the chance to see her again, she'd spend her whole life apologizing for saying rude things about her relationship with Joffrey, for teasing her for being so girly all her life, and for being so distant throughout the past six years. She wanted her sister back by her side so they could fix this, whatever rift had appeared in their relationship over the years. The more time that went by with no news of Sansa, the more irritated Arya got. How was it possible that Sansa, beautiful and famous and adored Sansa, had gone missing for a week, and no one had heard  _anything_  yet?

"Arya," Ned said. "We're all frustrated, trust me."

Arya knew everybody was tense, but she just couldn't help it.

She had never held her tongue, and she wasn't going to start now about something so important.

After dinner, Arya followed her father to his office. She had spent the past week debating whether or not she should do this, and she really couldn't see why she shouldn't. Her own fear had tried to convince her not to, but the possibility of information was too tempting to ignore. Telling Ned about what she knew would definitely anger him and cause even more stress, but she couldn't keep this to herself any longer. Especially when she was obviously the only one who knew so far, if no one was making news reports about it yet.

"Dad," she said, knocking on his office door.

"Yes?"

"There's something I have to tell you," she said. "Something I should have told you when I first found out." Arya took a deep breath to calm herself. "Aegon Targaryen is back, with Daenerys. I saw him the day you told me Sansa was missing."

She could pinpoint the exact moment Ned's face changed from mildly curious to tortured and wrecked. His eyes changed first, the light going out in the stony gray irises. His entire face seemed to fall, sinking in and hallowing out. He seemed, for the first time Arya had known him, like the forty-six year old man he actually was. For so long, for her whole life, Ned had looked fifteen years younger than he actually was, vibrant and full of love and life. But when Arya told him that the Targaryens were back, even if only two were back so far, he lost all of that and suddenly he was back in that hospital being told that his sister was dead and his brother was dead and he had no more siblings left.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you this earlier."

"Yes, you should have."

"I'm sorry."

Ned sighed, rubbing his hand down his face tiredly. "It's okay, Arya," he said, trying but failing to give her a smile. It refused to reach his eyes. He stood up and walked around the desk he was sitting at to face her, kissing her on the top of her head and putting his hand on her shoulder. Arya felt like she was five years old again. "Go get some sleep, Arya. It's been a long day, and you have class tomorrow if I'm not mistaken. And the days are only going to get harder from here if the Targaryens are actually back."

Arya nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor as she stood up and walked out of her father's office. She closed the door behind her, leaving Ned standing there leaning against his desk, still processing this new information.

Arya changed into her pajamas and curled under her own covers, feeling strangely empty without Gendry laying down beside her, hugging her from behind and kissing the back of her neck softly. She felt the ghost of his lips there, as if he was actually there with her, and pressed herself harder into the mattress, shutting her eyes tightly so she could sleep. But when she couldn't fall asleep, she just stayed in her bed staring into the darkness of her room, unable to see more than two feet in front of her, and thought of Gendry.

. . .

"I'm going to see Margaery!" Arya called out the next morning as she walked downstairs, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and sweater, her coat buttoned up over it.

"Why?" Cat asked as she sipped her coffee at the kitchen island, looking pristine as ever even though she was just staying in the house for the day. Always ready to impress.

"To see if she has any new information on Sansa," Arya replied, grabbing a piece of toast from the plate set on the counter by one of the cooks and folding a piece of cheese over it.

"But we've already talked to Margaery, Arya!" Cat called after her, but it was obviously no use. Arya was already walking towards the door, the piece of toast caught between her teeth as she fished her keys out from her pocket to lock the door behind her after walking out right in the middle of Cat's sentence. And there really was no point in arguing with Arya when she got like this.

Arya finished her breakfast before starting her car and driving off to Margaery's apartment. She had left the Tyrell household years ago, when she was sixteen, determined to make her own way in life. Arya had to admire her ambition.

Margaery's apartment was big and spacious, and even if half of the rent had been payed off by her father for the first year she lived by herself, she was successful enough by now to pay for it all by herself. It was very modern and it suited not only Margaery's tastes, but also Arya's. Framed black and white vintage photographs of Europe hung all over the walls, she had more cooking supplies than she could ever need, and the furniture was tasteful and classy, just like Margaery appeared to be for the public.

Arya knocked repeatedly on the door until Margaery opened it, looking just as put-together and perfect as Cat, making Arya feel very under-dressed. Margaery did that to her often. She was wearing a pair of black jeans with a pretty red loose tank top that she wouldn't have dared step outside in, since the neckline was dangerously low and the hem split open in the front right underneath her breasts so her entire stomach was exposed. She stood three inches taller in her tall black heels and half of her long brown hair was pulled up away from her face. She looked very pretty today, as if she had somewhere to be that didn't involve the cameras, and she also looked confused as to why Arya Stark was gracing her doorstep.

"Hi, Arya," Margaery said when she opened the door.

"Hi."

Margaery waited for Arya to continue with why she was here, but when she stayed silent, she spoke again. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking to see if you've heard from Sansa at all lately," Arya said hopefully, searching Margaery's face carefully.

Margaery pursed her lips and shook her head regretfully. "Sorry, I haven't. But I told your parents that I'd go straight to them if anything shows up."

Arya had known Margaery for a long time, and she had become skilled at catching on when she was lying. She'd seen it a million times when she lied to her parents, when she lied to Arya's parents, and when she lied to the public. It always concerned what she was doing with her life and her free time, but a lie was a lie.

Margaery had been Sansa's best friend since they were three years old. It was impossible that Sansa would have refrained from contacting Margaery.

So why was she lying?

"Margaery," Arya said lowly. "Please. Anything at all, I need to know."

Whenever Margaery lied, she blinked three times in rapid succession and the right corner of her lips twitched up, as if she was hiding a secret smile she couldn't show or else everyone would know she was playing them like an instrument. And when Margaery's eyelashes fluttered prettily and that little smirk appeared on her lips, Arya was positive Sana was okay, and that Margaery knew more than she was telling anyone.

"I'm sorry, Arya, but I don't know anything." She offered Arya a sympathetic smile, and she saw real regret and real pain in her expression as she tried to close the door, but Arya wedged her foot in between the wall and the door.

"Tell me the truth, Margaery," Arya demanded roughly. "I know you're lying, so I know you know where Sansa is. She's my  _sister_. You lied to my parents' face when you said you knew nothing, when you know we just want her home."

Margaery sighed and opened the door. "She's my  _best friend_ , Arya. She's like a sister to me. I can't just tell you where she is. Not when she left for a reason. She didn't want anyone to find her for a long time, at least until everything. . .she had to deal with calmed down." She crossed her arms and looked at the floor, as if regretting telling Arya all of this.

"So she's okay?" Arya asked shrilly. "She left by choice? But where would she go? Why would she even leave? Was it us? Was it the family? Did we do something to make her want to leave?" She paused, tapping her long nails on the wall next to the door. "Was it. . .was it Joffrey?" she asked, raising her eyebrows meaningfully at Sansa.

Margaery looked away to the side sharply.

And Arya knew that Joffrey was why Sansa left.

"Margaery," Arya repeated more sternly, more intensely. "This is Sansa. This is beautiful and sweet Sansa. And she's obviously in trouble because of Joffrey, so you're going to tell me where she is so we can  _help her_."

"You just. . .you won't get it!" Margaery exclaimed.

"Get what? That Joffrey's an asshole? Because I get that, trust me, I get that more than anyone!"

"No! You won't get why she's. . .doing what she's doing right now." Margaery bit her lip, looking up at Arya from underneath her eyelashes, and Arya got the feeling Margaery knew  _way_  more than she was telling anyone.

"What do you mean?" Arya asked cautiously, walking into the apartment slowly.

"Willas," Margaery said miserably. "It's Willas. She's at his apartment. He's been keeping her there while she figures out what she wants to do." She paused for a few seconds, letting Arya process this. "He's been in love with her for the longest time. And if Sansa hadn't been with Joffrey for so long, she might have been with Willas sooner."

Arya was taken aback. "Are you telling me Sansa is having an affair with your older brother?" she asked.

"No! She hasn't been having an affair with Willas. They've only been together since she left."

"Well, tell me where his apartment, so I can see her!" she demanded. Arya was already itching to leave this apartment again, to race to Willas's apartment and confront Sansa about what she thought she was doing.

"Why? So you can tell her she's being an idiot for being with my brother while she's engaged to Joffrey? Because she knows that, okay? She knows! But she doesn't want to be with Joffrey anymore. That's why she's with Willas."

Arya shook her head. "Just tell me his address. I just want to see my sister, okay?" she said calmly, walking towards Margaery. "I want to see her, and know for sure that she's okay."

Margaery hesitated but gave Arya the address anyway. Arya gave her a grateful hug before racing back to her car.

. . .

"Willas!" Arya called out as she banged on the door. "Willas, I know Sansa is with you so you better come out with her or I'm going to break down your goddamned door.

She waited in silence for a few minutes and just as she was about to start banging again, the doorknob turned.

And out stepped Sansa Stark.


	20. A Heart Made Of Steel

"Sansa, you have to come  _home_ ," Arya said loudly, standing up from the couch and putting her hands on her sister's shoulders.

"No, I dont!" Sansa said, taking Arya's wrists in her hands and pulling them off. "I don't  _have_  to come home. I don't  _want_  to come."

"But why not?" Arya asked, crossing her arms over chest. "What happened between last week and now? Was it Joffrey, was it Willas? Have you fallen in love with someone else, because that's okay! We can help you if you would just  _come home_ , Sansa."

Arya had never seen her sister looking like this. Sansa's red hair was messy and piled up on top of her head in a knot. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and Arya couldn't for the life of her remember when the last time she saw Sansa without makeup was. She was wearing a gray tank top with a thin white sweater over it, the hood pulled up over her head and the zipper pulled up halfway, and a pair of black sweats with fuzzy cat slippers. She looked tired from lack of sleep and ashamed at what she had done, but Arya wanted nothing more than to take her back home.

"It-It's everything!" Sansa said. "I just can't go back. I can't go back to Joffrey and that  _place_ , his house, and sit there so I can pretend everything is fine and pretend I still love him when I  _don't_  and I just can't do it anymore! I won't do it anymore."

Arya had known for years that Joffrey wasn't a good person, had spent the past seven years trying to make Sansa see what she saw.

"Why did it take you so long to figure it out?" she asked softly.

Sansa gave her a bitter look and sat back down on the couch, motioning for Arya to do the same. Willas, who had been sitting quietly across from them, rose up, leaning on his crutch, and walked out of the room to give them the privacy they needed.

"Joffrey has a temper, Arya, you know that," Sansa started. "And after the engagement, whenever something wouldn't go his way, he would take his anger out on me. He would. . .he would hit me and he would tell me I was worthless. That the only reason he was even marrying me was because I had good money. He blamed the whole Gendry situation on me; how that even made sense, I don't know. And so I started going to Margaery a lot, and with Margaery came Willas, and he just took care of me whenever I started crying. . .so one day I told him that I wanted to leave and I asked if he would help me, and he said yes. So I've been here."

Arya had known Joffrey was a bad person. She had known he wasn't  _good_. But to hear her sister talk about how he hit her was the last straw. Arya Stark had officially run out of patience with Joffrey Baratheon and she would make him pay if it was the last thing she ever did.

"I'll kill him," she promised her sister fiercely. "I'll kill him for what he's done to you."

"Arya, you can't," Sansa said, putting her hand over Arya's. "You can't just swoop in and start beating him without any reason. We have to be smart about this. I've been talking with Willas and Margaery for a while about this, about how we would tell everyone what happened to me."

"And what have you come up with?"

"Simple. We tell the news that I was a victim of abuse at the hands of Joffrey Baratheon, the man I thought was my one true love but he clearly knows how to put on a show for everybody else. That behind closed doors, he's a monster who has no regard for the feelings of others and only cares about himself and his ambitions. We tell them how I spent every moment since that proposal in June fearing he would either break up with me or beat me so bad I would never be able to hide the bruises and excuse the injuries away." Sansa looked down at the couch, at the space between their two bodies. "We tell them the  _truth_."

Arya held Sansa's hand even tighter, gripping onto it for dear life. "Sansa," Arya said lowly. "If you're going to do this, if you're going to speak out. . .you need to come home first." Sansa started to pull away, but Arya held on. "Sansa, we need you back home. Everybody misses you, everyone loves you over there. Please."

"I just. . .I will come home, yes, I promise I will. I just need more time. I need time to be myself, to be with. . ." She trailed off, blushing.

"To be with Willas?" Arya asked knowingly, raising her eyebrows and glancing over at the doorway Willas had disappeared into minutes before.

Sansa nodded, her blush deepening to an even darker red. "Yes, to be with Willas," she said. "I know that the moment I come back with a new man on my arm, everybody will be making up theories and rumors. I just want to be able to enjoy this while I can before we have to start sneaking around so they don't call me a slut."

Arya scoffed. "Why would they ever call you a slut?" she asked, but the moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew the answer. She knew why Sansa feared to announce her relationship with Willas so soon after breaking her engagement with Joffrey.

"Because I'm the girl, Arya!" Sansa said. "Because I ran away from my fiancee who I said I was in love with for so long, and then I run away for a week only to return with accusations of domestic abuse and emotional manipulation, along with a new boyfriend! How do you think they'll show me off to the public?"

"If it was the other way around and Joffrey showed up with. . .Margaery Tyrell, they would never jump to those kind of conclusions," Arya said, leaning back in the couch. "They'd say that he found comfort in a woman who showed him what real love was. They'll never say that about you."

"Exactly," Sansa said. "I want to come home, I do. But I need more time to sort out how I'm going to do this, how I'll tell people. How am I going to tell Mom and Dad? Or Robb, or Bran and Rickon and Jon? I want more time with Willas before we have to sneak around for the sake of my reputation."

"Who cares about your reputation?" Arya asked. She was being a hypocrite, she knew, but she couldn't help the words that came out of her mouth. "Who cares what they say about you and Willas? You know the truth and so do we, so that's the only thing that should matter to you."

If only she could say those words to Gendry.

. . .

Arya spent the day with Sansa in Willas's apartment.

And she saw that Sansa was really in love with Willas. She saw it in the way they moved together, almost as if they were sync. They moved as if they were apart of some dance only they were aware of performing, moving around each other and with each other in such fluid and graceful movements, even with Willas's crutch. She saw it in the way Willas put his hand on Sansa's back as if to support her, as if to let her know he was going to be there for her through this whole Joffrey ordeal no matter what the outcome was. She saw it in the way Sansa looked at him, like he was the savior, the knight in shining armor she had always been waiting for.

The knight in shining armor she had thought had been Joffrey, but turned out to be Willas.

"You'll stay for dinner, won't you, Arya?" Willas asked her as he set up an extra place at the dinner table for her without waiting for her response. Arya didn't bother answering; she and everyone else here knew what her answer would be. She had missed her classes for the day, including a very important dance rehearsal, but she didn't care. In this world, or any other world she would be apart of, her sister would always come first.

After they ate dinner, Sansa and Arya went back to the couch to talk about the next step for her and Joffrey.

"We'll tell Mom and Dad first. And then we'll go to the reporters and tell them all about it. Because they will obviously want an interview with you for this."

Sansa looked scared and nervous, but she agreed. Arya admired her strength and wondered who had been the stronger sister throughout their lives?

When Arya returned home, without Sansa, she could do nothing but collapse onto her bed with her clothes and shoes still on. All she had managed to do was unbutton her coat and throw it on her desk chair haphazardly. She pulled out her phone from her sweatpants pocket and clicked on the one name that would bring her peace right now, the one person who would know what to do to make her feel better, like she was a good person.

"Arya?" Gendry asked into the phone, his voice thick and groggy. Arya thought he might just have been about to go to sleep, because that was how his voice usually sounded when he told her goodnight as he kissed her on the forehead right before falling asleep. "Arya, is that you?"

"Yeah," Arya breathed into the speaker, holding the phone even closer to her ear, desperate to hear every sound, ever breath, that Gendry made. Anything to make him feel closer to her. "Yeah, it's me. I just. . .I needed to hear your voice. I needed to know that you're still here."

Gendry let out a soft sigh and Arya could see him perfectly in her mind's eye, could practically see the small and sleepy smile that was curving his lips up at her words, the way his body was spread out on the blankets in his bed so comfortably. "I'm still here, love, I promise."

Arya talked to him quietly about Sansa, about what she had found out and what had been uncovered. She told him all about Joffrey's actions toward her and how she was with Willas now. She told him about their plan to go to the papers and make a report about what had happened to her in the months following the engagement. Arya spoke into the phone while Gendry listened, ever the supporter, and when she was done, she told him so and pressed herself deeper into her bed and waited for him to respond.

"Arya," Gendry said. "You're doing the right thing, you know? Letting her have her time with Willas. Because she's right. They'll paint her as the one in the wrong if she comes out now with Willas on her arm and conveniently claiming Joffrey abused her."

Arya knew Sansa was right. So she told Gendry goodnight and he told her the same, and she hung up and fell asleep immediately.

. . .

Three days later, Sansa walked into the house. She walked into the house with her head held high and her shoulders thrown back, looking like the queen everybody knew she was. She had half her hair pulled up and held back with a big clip and she was wearing makeup again. She was wearing a black tank top tucked into a pretty silver skirt with tights on underneath and a pair of silver ankle boots on her feet, and a black cardigan over her top.

She looked like the Sansa Stark Arya had been missing for the past week and a half.

Cat and Ned were absolutely beside themselves, and Arya was left staring open-mouthed at Sansa's form in the doorway. She had no idea she had decided on coming home. They hadn't been able to talk at all ever since Arya had left Willas's apartment three days ago. She, along with the rest of her family, got up and rushed over to her, hugging her fiercely around the waist while Sansa's arms came up around her neck and they just stood there holding each other, two sisters who knew more about each other than anyone could ever have the right of finding out.

"Sansa, where have you  _been_?" Cat asked, taking Sansa's arm and leading her over to the couch.

And so Sansa told them the story, much in the same way that she had told Arya. Except she left out the part where Arya had come to see her, and for that Arya was grateful. Her parents would never forgive her for withholding the information of Sansa's whereabouts from them. But having to sit there and pretend she was clueless the entire time, having to hear  _again_  how Joffrey had taken advantage of Sansa and her defenseless nature, was torture. She felt like throwing up all over again, but had to pretend she was just as unaware of this new information as the rest of her family. It killed her, but she knew she had no other choice.

When she was done, Cat had tears in her eyes and Ned looked as if he might break something. As soon as Sansa stopped talking, he got up from the couch and went to the phone, dialing a number and holding it up to his ear.

"What are you doing, Dad?" Sansa asked, turning to him over the back of the couch.

"I'm calling to press charges," Ned said.

Sansa didn't argue. This is what she wanted. She wanted justice for herself and she wanted everyone to know who Joffrey really was.

And just like that, after so many years of being happy together and spending their whole lives together, the alliance that had kept the Baratheon and Stark family united had shattered. It had already worn thin when news of Robert Baratheon's murder had surfaced, and now that the family knew that Joffrey had beaten their daughter, there would never be any hope of healing it.

Arya took Sansa to the side in the kitchen, fixing her a plate of food with the cook's help, and sat with her at the kitchen island as she ate. "So," she began, "when do you think you'll do an interview?"

Sansa shrugged. "As soon as I can. I want this whole thing to be over with so I can go back to Willas."

Arya hoped she could, too.

. . .

"My parents are pressing charges against Joffrey for assault," Arya said as she leaned back on Gendry's bed, completely unashamed that she was naked and the covers had been pulled down to her abdomen so everything from her waist up was exposed to Gendry's eyes. "Sansa's doing an interview tomorrow."

"Good," Gendry said as he trailed his lips from her breast to her stomach. "She deserves to get a happy ending for once."

"That's what I said," Arya hummed, her eyes closing as she found Gendry's hand to intertwine with hers.

"Arya," Gendry said in a hushed voice as he moved up her body slowly. "Arya, open your eyes."

Arya hummed again, arching her back up to the ceiling in protest as he tried to shake her from her half-asleep state.

"Arya, there's something very important I have to tell you."

"So say it," she said.

"Arya, I think I'm in love with you."

Arya froze and opened her eyes. Gendry was staring up at her as he pressed his chin down on her collarbone, his blue eyes wide and unblinking as he waited for her response, clearly nervous and obviously awaiting a specific answer to fall from her lips.

" _Oh_ ," she said cautiously. She could feel her stomach tightening, the nerves in her body making her feel very claustrophobic all of a sudden.

"Arya, please. . ."

"I, um, I think it's best if I go," she said quietly, standing up from the bed and grabbing her underwear and bra.

Gendry took her wrist in his hand and turned her around to face him. He pressed his lips to her stomach. "I'm sorry for springing that on you. It's okay, we can talk about this."

Arya pushed his shoulders back and nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, okay, we'll talk. But, um, right now I need to go home. Everyone needs me there now, so."

Gendry didn't try stopping her, and she didn't know if she was glad or disappointed for that as she made her way down the stairs of his apartment building. She thought of it as she started her car and began the long drive back to Manhattan.

But after a few minutes, she decided she didn't want to think about it.

. . .

**** SANSA'S DRAMATIC RETURN   
_by Jeyne Poole_   


_Here at_ Envy _magazine, we've always been a fan of a timeless romance. Our reporters and journalists love hearing about two people who have found each other and never want to let go. Which is why we were absolutely thrilled when we heard that Sansa Stark (22) and Joffrey Baratheon (22) were finally tying the knot after seven years of dating! Except. . .not everything was as happy as they led us to believe. When Sansa was reported as missing two weeks ago, everyone assumed she was kidnapped. But when she returned a week and a half later, she began the process of pressing charges against her fiancee for physical abuse! Now Sansa has agreed to come here for a chat about her relationship with Joffrey Baratheon, her plans for the future, and what she's going to do about her wedding._

_JP: Sansa, I'm so glad you're okay and that you've returned home to your friends and family._

_SS: Thanks, Margaery. It was scary to come home, but I needed to do what had to be done._

_JP: And that was to finally tell the world about what you've experienced at the hands of Joffrey Baratheon?_

_SS: Yes, that's exactly it. The world needs to know the truth about what happened ever since our engagement._

_JP: But what happened while you were dating? Were there any instances during your seven-year-long relationship before the engagement?_

_SS: No. I always knew that Joffrey was. . .intense. And he had a temper, everybody knew that. But I never imagined he would take it out on me._

_JP: When did this first occur?_

_SS: A few days after we got engaged. The moment he proposed, we got right to work. I already had my bridesmaids picked out, he had his groomsmen, and we were ready to begin the process of planning a wedding._

_Now, Miss Stark pauses, and she looks around as if to make sure no one is going to hurt her. There is no doubt in my mind that she's absolutely terrified of her ex-fiancee now, and one can't help but feel immense pity and sympathy for the girl everyone in America fell in love with the moment her birth was announced by her parents, Ned and Catelyn Stark, who have both been extremely supportive of their oldest daughter in her decision to end her engagement with Joffrey Baratheon, stop all planning of her wedding, and press charges against him for the abuse he subjected her to for six months._

_SS: I remember I said something about a venue, a lovely little place in Long Island I remember seeing a few times whenever I went there to visit. And he disagreed, and at first it seemed okay. This was just a regular fight, people always argue about things when they're engaged. I thought it was normal. But then, it just escalated and it turned out to be a much bigger fight than I ever could have imagined, and we started yelling accusations at each other, both of us. I'm not painting myself to be the victim, because whenever we fought I said awful things, too. I told him he took too long to propose, and he said he was only doing it to make me shut up about marriage. I told him he never even wanted to marry me, and that's when he pushed me down. I hit my head against the wall hard. When I looked back up at him, I was more frightened than ever. Because even though he held out his hand to me and told me he would never do it again. . .I saw it in his eyes how much he wanted to do it over and over again._

_There are chills running up and down my whole body at this point, but I know that if I show anything other than curiosity towards Miss Stark right now, she'll get even more scared and sensitive. So I have to make sure I stay expressionless throughout the whole thing._

_JP: And there were more fights like this?_

_SS: Yes, all the time. He started drinking more, he got angrier more often. He started blaming me for things I had no control over, like everybody finding out about Gendry Waters and his real father._

_JP: Which is impossible because you had barely spoken to him?_

_SS: Yes._

_JP: And this abuse. . .how long did it go on for until you said enough is enough?  
_

_SS: Well, it started after our engagement in June, and then at the end of November I decided I couldn't do it anymore. Over the course of the engagement, I had been going to Margaery Tyrell's apartment to talk about what was happening, and she was the most supportive person about it. And with her came her older brother Willas Tyrell, who I've also known since I was a child. They helped me, gave me the support I needed._

_JP: So they were the only people who knew what was happening? Your family had no idea?_

_SS: Of course not. My father and Robert Baratheon, may he rest in peace, have always been the best of friends. I never wanted to ruin that because of something that was happening to me. So I talked about it to Margaery and Willas._

_JP: And what happened when you decided to leave?_

_SS: I told Margaery I couldn't do this anymore. I told her I was leaving and I wasn't coming back, not for a long time. Willas, he tried to calm me down, tell me everything was going to be alright. Margaery promised that she would protect me, keep me safe from him, but I knew she could do nothing. So when Willas offered to let me stay with him. . .I accepted._

_JP: So this whole time, you were staying with Willas Tyrell and only he and Margaery knew about it?_

_SS: Yes, that is correct._

_It's a startling discovery. This whole time, we were searching for Sansa everywhere we could, and the entire time she was right under our noses, right in front of us. And now that she's mentioned it, I can't help but take the opportunity to ask what everybody's probably thinking at this point._

_JP: So you and Willas. . .while you were staying there, did anything happen between you two._

_SS: I was still engaged to Joffrey. And no matter how much I hated him at that point, I respected the responsibilities that came with an engagement to another person. So nothing happened between me and Willas, I would never do that._

_Her words were not telling me she had no feelings for him, so I continued to press._

_JP: And now that you've successfully ended your engagement?_

_At this, Sansa Stark smiles for the first time since she stepped into the cafe to meet with me. And that's an answer enough for me._

_SS: I feel very grateful for Willas and everything he has done for me in my time of need. He's more than a friend at this point, but right now. . .I can't jump headfirst into a new relationship when I've only just ended the only one I've ever been in. I was with Joffrey for seven long years, and I was engaged to him for six months that I experienced horrible things. I would love to be able to marry and have children, because that's always been one of my goals in life, but at this point in my life, after experiencing these things done to me, I need to focus on myself. I need to work hard at my job and I need to work hard at letting people back into my life._

_JP: Well, we're wishing you all the best, Sansa, and hope that you get your happy ending._

_And we say that in the most genuine and sincerest of ways._


	21. The Blue Winter Rose

The first thing Arya saw when she came home were reporters.

She was used to this by now. In fact, she'd been expecting this.

After Sansa's sudden and unexpected return to the house, and after she revealed she had been abused by Joffrey for the past six months, reporters and journalists had been banging on their door for the past few days.

In typical Arya fashion, she fought her way through the crowd as she so often did, ignoring the microphones and cameras and tape recorders that were being shoved in her face and even daring to push some aside when they got too close for her taste. She didn't bother listening to the words they were yelling at her, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to pay attention to what questions they were asking her. This was about Sansa anyway. She had no right to say anything involving what Sansa had been forced to go through for the past few months, especially when she had no idea what was going on.

But when Arya walked through the front door and threw her keys on the side table next to the door, she paused as she turned to face the living room in front of her. There, right in the middle of her own home, was Aegon Targaryen, and by his side was Daenerys.

"What the hell are they doing here?" Arya asked, walking farther into the house and joining her family on the couches.

"Arya," Ned said, and his voice was tight and barely restrained. He sounded tortured, as if it physically pained him to speak.

"Arya," Daenerys sighed from beside her nephew, smiling in relief as she saw her old friend. Dany looked just as she remembered, all long pale hair and bright clothing and calm, soothing tones. "It's so good to see you again."

" _What_  are they doing here?" Arya asked again, looking back and forth between Aegon and Daenerys and the rest of her family. Bran was sitting in his wheelchair, looking just as confused as she felt, while Robb and Jon were looking at Ned and Cat with wide eyes. Rickon looked vaguely uninterested, and Sansa was perched on the arm of an armchair, back straight and hands folded primly in her lap.

"It seems that the Targaryens have some new for us," Cat said, her voice sounding just as small and irritated as Ned's. She was looking darkly at her husband, and then looking at Jon with a dirty look on her face. Arya had to keep herself from yelling at her for that.

"It involves your half-brother."

Aegon was the one who spoke, and Arya simply ignored him, waving him off with a simple dismissive flick of her hand. She didn't even bother turning to face him, she just kept staring at Ned. "What news? Does he mean Jon? What's wrong, what is everybody talking about?"

"There's something everybody here needs to know about Jon," Ned said, eyes trained on the floor. "Something I tried to keep secret for as long as I could. I should have realized the truth would eventually catch up to me. And you all deserve the truth. Especially you." Here, he looked at Jon meaningfully. "And you." And then to Cat, who looked more worried now than anything.

"Dad?" Jon asked hoarsely.

"Most of you know the story of how your mother and I separated for a bit after Robb was born. I was going on business trips again only two months after his birth, coming home for only brief periods of time. And Catelyn told me she could no longer live like this. I was staying with my brother, Benjen after we separated, and in that time, my sister Lyanna met Rhaegar Targaryen. The brother of Daenerys here and her nephew Aegon, his son. And then, Robert Baratheon called us frantic one day, saying that Rhaegar had kidnapped Lyanna and she was missing and no one knew where she was. Me and my brother Brandon were convinced by Robert to go search for her, only because of Robert's infatuation with her. He had been in love with her for years, ever since we were children, and he always chased her but she never accepted his advances, always refused him. We didn't find Lyanna for almost a year, and then, when we did, we found her. . .in love. In love with Rhaegar Targaryen, who had left his wife Elia Martell to be with Lyanna. Not only did we find her in love with another man, but we found her pregnant. Lyanna told us she wished to marry Rhaegar but he was married and our parents had always loved the idea of her and Robert marrying. She begged us not to tell anyone, but Brandon told Robert. And Robert was  _furious_. He became convinced that Rhaegar had brainwashed Lyanna into thinking they were in love and forcing her to love him as he did her. Once Brandon told me what he did, I was so angry at him. This is our sister, I said, and we should trust her that she's happy. So we agreed to help him and Lyanna escape. Brandon was taking Rhaegar and Lyanna to the airport in Rhaegar's car, and then Robert came at them in his own. Brandon and Rhaegar were killed on impact, but Lyanna survived. I got the call from Robert and by then, she was already in the hospital. The doctors told me the car crash had caused her to go into labor early, and she gave birth to a baby boy but she was bleeding out fast. I was with her when she died. She made me swear she would protect her son, raise him as my own. Name him Jon, she said, and make him your son. Care for him like I can't. Never let anyone know the truth. Protect him. I continued staying with Benjen until a few months later, Cat came to me, and saw Jon. I had to tell her that Jon was mine, I had no choice. I had to honor Lyanna's last request. So I told her that he was mine, told her the mother died in childbirth. And she stayed with me despite it all."

Finally, Ned stopped talking, and Arya couldn't even move. She felt paralyzed to her seat, staring open mouthed at her father, at the man who she thought had always been so honest with her about everything. Instead, he had been lying to her, lying to  _everyone_ , for twenty-four years.

Jon was looking at Ned as if he was a completely different person. And, honestly, he was. This man had lied to them for their whole lives. With a startling jolt, Arya realized that Jon wasn't even her  _brother_. He was her cousin. Arya let out all of her breath in one short gust of air, refusing to look at anyone.

"Fuck you."

Arya jumped, looking up to see who had spoken.

It was Jon. He was on his feet, looking down at Ned with such betrayal, such  _anger_ , in his eyes that it shook Arya to the core. He was looking at him like he was a stranger, like he didn't even know who the man sitting in front of him was. Arya could only imagine how he was feeling. All his life, he had felt like an outcast. He had felt like he didn't belong in the Stark family because Ned had slept with a woman in a moment of weakness while he was separated from his wife and felt lonely. And now he was finding out that the people he had thought were his family. . .weren't.

Ned looked just as hopeless and forlorn as Jon did. He didn't even react to Jon's ' _Fuck you_ ', he simply just accepted it. As if he knew he deserved it, like the impact of his lie was only just now hitting him. Like the force of what he did, of what he kept from his own flesh and blood for over two decades, was only now registering his mind. But Arya knew her father. She knew that he had probably spent each day regretting the decision not to say the truth.

Jon, it seemed, couldn't come to the same conclusion. He just spun around on his heel and stormed out of the house, slamming the door loudly behind him.

"Well, that was dramatic."

Arya turned around to see Aegon and Dany still standing there, Dany looking shocked and slightly regretful, while Aegon looked. . . _smug_.

Suddenly, Arya felt sick to her stomach. She needed to get out of the house, needed to leave just like Jon had. But no matter how much she wanted to run after him and comfort him, she knew that the sight of her would probably make him feel even worse. She didn't want to make him feel worse. He would probably go to Ygritte, the girl who had no ties to this kind of life, to these kinds of secrets, and seek comfort from her. He deserved it, Arya thought. Let him have it.

"And what part do you play in all of this?" Arya asked Aegon and Daenerys with a bitter and harsh edge to the tone of her voice. "Why are you two still here? How did you find out about any of this?"

Aegon shrugged, looking humble for the first time since she had walked into the house. It was as if Arya's look turned him into a completely different person. "We've done our research on the families who played a role in our family member's death."

"The families who played a role in your family member's death?" Sansa asked, speaking for the first time since Arya had walked inside. "The only person who caused Rhaegar's death was Robert, the person driving the car. And I'm sorry for the loss you endured, for never knowing your father or your brother, but that is not my family's fault. You have no right to come back to Manhattan after spending both of your whole lives' in seclusion and dump all these secrets on us."

"Your father's kept a secret from you for  _twenty-four_  years," Aegon said to her. "That's longer than you've been alive,  _Miss Stark_. He's been lying to you about your own family since before you were even a thought. And you choose to yell at me instead about this, when you should be angry at him?"

"We're all angry right now!" Robb said. "But Sansa's right, you have no right to invade our home and talk about a family you have no part in."

"I  _do_  have a part in this family, actually," Aegon said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Jon is my half-brother. His mother is a Stark."

"I don't care if she's a Stark or a Targaryen or a goddamned Tyrell or Lannister!" Robb said, standing up. "You've never once introduced yourself to anyone, not the world or to us. You never bothered letting us know you or Daenerys were alive, or that you even  _existed_. You both were announced missing and then dead after no one could find you, and you've been living very comfortably this whole time."

Arya was swiveling her head back and forth like she was watching a tennis match, looking to see who would speak next and how someone else would respond. She couldn't even find her own voice to speak, couldn't bring coherent thoughts to mind so she could form them into proper words and say how she felt about all this. Because she  _didn't_  know how she felt about all this. She felt like her whole world was being put under a microscope and now she had to search and dig for any hidden information that might indicate new secrets that her family had been keeping from her all her life.

She walked out in the end.

She just stood up, without saying a word and without speaking to anybody, and she just walked out. Her head was hurting; there was a constant throbbing, pulsing feeling in her forehead, and her heart was racing so fast and her hands were so sweaty. She felt like the world had lost focus, like a camera with bad quality, and everything was just background noise, fuzzy in her ears and unclear. Arya made her way from the couch to the front door, and she might have heard her mother repeating her name over and over again but it didn't matter to her. She had had enough, and she couldn't handle it anymore. So she just walked out.

Arya had no idea where she was going. She had no idea what she was going to do. Jon was probably on his way to Ygritte's by now, if he wasn't there already. She knew she would have to face the reporters again, but she didn't understand how they knew all of this before she did.

"Arya!"

It seemed like that one voice was able to break through her daydream-like state.

Aegon Targaryen wouldn't quit. He was determined, she had to give him credit for that. But he wouldn't leave her alone. Arya didn't bother turning around, unable to face him yet after what had just happened. She was already in the elevator, and tried to push the button multiple times, as if that was going to make the doors shut faster than they normally would.

Aegon slid in right in time, breathing heavily as he leaned against the wall in the elevator booth. He was looking at her with wide, earnest eyes that held a hundred different words she couldn't yet decipher.

"Arya," he began.

Her hand was itching to slap him across the face.

"So is this it?" Arya asked, folding her arms across her chest. "Is this the  _true return_  of the great and mighty Targaryen family? Are you going to build yourself up now like you've been waiting to do for so long? Are you going to recreate your reign of Manhattan and let everyone know you're back?"

"That's always been the plan," Aegon replied, pushing off the wall and moving closer to her. "Arya," he repeated meaningfully.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"Go out with me."

Arya scoffed. "What?"

"Go out with me."

"Why should I?"

"Because we're compatible. Because I introduced myself to you when me and Dany were  _trying_  to stay in hiding in the Hamptons. Because we were friends the entire time up until I made a mistake and told you about Lyanna and Rhaegar in a fit of anger when you should have found out on your own, and I'm  _sorry_  for that."

"I. . .I have a boyfriend, Aegon," she said.

Even as the words slipped out of her mouth, Arya felt unsure.  _Did_  she still have a boyfriend? Was Gendry mad at her for not saying she loved him back? It was too soon for that, right? They'd only known each other since June, but she had always felt more strongly about him than anyone else she'd met. She had just never expected the words to come so soon after getting together. They had agreed to talk it out, but Arya knew he was probably angry, or at least confused. And he was definitely wondering why she hadn't said the words back.

"You do?"

"Yes. His name is Gendry Waters and he's my boyfriend."

"You mean Gendry  _Baratheon_? The one you've adamantly refused to have any romantic connection with for the past six months?"

Arya raised her eyebrows in a challenge. "The very same."

"Fine. Then come out with me and Dany tomorrow. We're going out to explore Manhattan. I want you to be there."

"Why should I?"

"Bring Gendry if you want," he said, completely ignoring her question.

Arya thought for a moment, seriously considering her answer. Aegon and Dany wanted to explore Manhattan, and her and Gendry had never even found an opportunity to go out together. This could be the perfect chance, and who would she be to take that away without even consulting him about it first? Arya imagined what Gendry would be like in Manhattan at night with her, partying at a club or taking shots at a bar with her. She opened her mouth to respond right as the  _ding!_  of the elevator went off, announcing their arrival to the lobby of the building. Arya stepped out of the elevator with Aegon right on her heels, and prepared herself for the swarm of reports who were still undoubtedly waiting for someone to walk outside. She wondered if Jon had answered any questions or if he had just pushed and fought his way through it, like Arya did. Knowing Jon, especially when he was in such a fragile state of mind right now, he probably just kept his head down and made his way silently and surely.

She didn't know if there were more or less people waiting for them out there, but it was still an intimidating crowd to fight her way through. Aegon took her elbow in his hand, and she flinched back, but he held on tight.

"Come on. We'll talk outside," Aegon said as he opened the front doors of the building, completely ignoring the doorman who was reaching out for the handle and leaving him behind looking quite baffled and slightly insulted. He walked through with his head held high and his shoulders back, standing even taller than he normally looked. Arya had to admit, walking with him was slightly easier than being by herself.

When they were free and down the corner, waving off any stray reporters that had tried to follow them, Aegon asked her again. "Will you come with us?"

Arya bit her lip, looking down at the pavement as she fiddled with the teal ring resting on her index finger. She didn't even know why she was considering it; Aegon was meddling in her family's life when, as it had been pointed out so many times before, neither he nor Daenerys had any right to do so. But still, she found herself leaning towards saying  _yes_. Aegon was a persuasive person when he wanted to be. "Okay. I'll go with you guys."

Aegon's whole face lit up and Arya couldn't help but feel like she had made a mistake in saying yes. "Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow night at eight."

. . .

"You want me to do what with you?"

"I want you to come out with me and Aegon and Daenerys Targaryen tomorrow. It'll be fun, I promise."

"Yeah, or it could be a huge mistake."

"How could it be a mistake?"

"Arya, you've been warned on multiple occasions by several people not to talk to the Targaryens. And you're just jumping right into it.

"I spent my entire vacation at the Hamptons with these two people," she reminded him. She purposely left out the fact that Aegon had kissed her and left her feeling very intimidated by him. "It'll be fine. We'll have fun having a date night together."

Gendry snorted. "It won't be a date night," he said, "not really. We'll be with two other people, and it won't even be like it's a double date because he's her nephew and she's his aunt. Which is really weird, because they're like the same age."

"Actually, I think she's like two years younger than him, though that makes it a little weirder," Arya mused as she rolled onto her side, pressing the phone into the side of her cheek. "Besides, the Targaryens have been known for marrying into their family. Something about having the purest blood line by marrying their brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces. . .that kind of weird stuff." She heard Gendry cough uncomfortably into the phone and laugh. "But that hasn't been done in a few years, so it's okay."

"I feel so reassured," Gendry said dryly.

"Gendry," Arya said seriously. "Stop trying to change the subject. Come on. We'll go to a club, we'll dance, we'll drink, and we'll have so much  _fun_. Please say you'll come with me."

Gendry sighed heavily, the sound coming off as static through the speaker in Arya's ear. "Okay. I'll go."

"Yay! Thank you so much, you're the best."

Gendry laughed. "And don't you forget it." He paused for a moment. "Get some sleep Arya. You need the rest," he said warmly.

Arya could practically hear the small and concerned smile on his face. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

. . .

They were at the club until one in the morning before Daenerys and Arya both announced that they had had enough. Both of them were feeling like their feet were about to fall off in their tall high heels, and they were sweating considerably under the bright and flashing strobe lights sweeping across the club's white tiled floor. Aegon, who had been nursing a glass of whiskey, immediately got ready to go as Arya took hold of Gendry's hand.

"What do you say we go back to our hotel room?" Aegon suggested as he shrugged into his coat.

Arya sidled up next to him, letting go of Gendry's hand the moment they walked out of the club and onto the streets. "What's at your hotel room?" she asked curiously, sliding her hands into her own coat's pockets.

"Comfortable couches, a large television and stereo, expensive bottles of champagne, the best weed," he said casually, not even looking over to see both Arya and Gendry's faces freeze. "It'll be like a private party just for us four."

Arya coughed a little. "Are you. . .are you joking?" she asked quietly. "Like, about the. . .about the weed?"

Dany put herself in between Arya and Gendry and linked elbows with Arya. "Why would we be? If you don't like it, you guys don't have to try it. And if you don't want us to do it with you there, we'll wait for you to go home."

Arya had tried pot a few times, at high school and college parties, but it had never been very good and she'd only gotten a bit giggly. "I mean, it's fine if you do it, but I'm not sure. . ."

"How to do it?" Aegon asked suggestively, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at her.

Arya felt a chill run up her spine at his look.

"Well, yeah," she admitted.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'll teach you how to do it right." He looked down the row of people, eyeing Gendry. "And you?" he asked.

Gendry shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Aegon managed to hail a cab in a matter of seconds, flagging it down to their spot on the sidewalk. They all piled in one after the other, with Aegon taking the front seat and Arya sitting in between Dany and Gendry.

The driver was giving them all curious looks, glancing next to him and through his rear view mirror to get a look at four of the most famous socialites in New York.

Thankfully, the drive was relatively short, and in ten minutes, they were pulling up to a fancy-looking hotel. It was too dark for Arya to decipher the black cursive words on the white awning above the tall glass double doors, but there were two doormen waiting next to each door and fountains spilling over with water in the front.

"Luxurious," Arya said to Dany as they made their way through the doors, smiling politely at the doormen who held them open for them. "How long are you guys going to stay here?'

Dany shrugged her shoulders gracefully, shaking her long blonde braid back behind her collarbone. "Until me and Aegon find a place of our own. We're searching now, so if you see a pile of newspapers all over the tables, that's just our apartment listings."

"So that's it, huh?" Arya said a little breathlessly when they all piled into the elevator, still feeling a little shocked that Dany and Aegon were  _here_ , in Manhattan. "You guys are staying for good now?"

Dany gave her a sly smirk. "Do you want me to go, Arya?" she asked.

Arya cocked her head to the side, actually thinking it over for a second. "No," she said, and she was surprised that she meant it.

She had always liked Daenerys, while Aegon seemed too intense at times, often breaking the line of overbearing, making her feel like she was suffocating. Dany was more laid back, though she had her moments of intensity that seemed to be a common trait in Targaryen children.

When Aegon pulled out the plastic bag from under the mattress, he unrolled it and unzipped the seal, pulling out four joints. He passed one to Dany, one to Arya, and the other to Gendry, keeping the fourth one for himself.

"Get my lighter, Dany," Aegon said as he opened the mini fridge and pulled out a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne in it.

Dany came back a few seconds later, tossing Aegon's lighter to him and carrying four tall glasses.

Arya put the blunt between her lips as Aegon held up the lighter for her, coming closer to her and striking the flame up with his thumb. He lit it for her, and the smell of lighter fluid mixed with marijuana invaded her nose. She tried to take a drag and took it from her mouth, sending herself into a coughing fit.

Aegon, who was lighting his own joint, looked up at her and smiled. "Here. Let me show you."

Dany came to join the two of them sitting on the floor in front of the mini fridge with Gendry trailing behind her, carrying two glasses of champagne each.

Aegon took Arya's blunt from her fingers and leaned in close to her. Arya noticed a ring of red around the white paper from her lipstick and focused on that instead of Aegon's face until he turned her to face him.

"Come here."

She obeyed, and watched as Aegon put her own blunt between his lips, sucking in deep and hard before removing it, holding the smoke in and coming so close to her face that she thought he was going to kiss her. But he just blew the smoke between her parted lips, surprising her at his audacity so that she gasped right as he exhaled and brought the smoke right into her lungs.

Arya coughed a little bit when he leaned back, looking way too pleased with himself, and immediately looked over at Gendry.

He looked pissed.

"You're not doing it right," Gendry commented.

He scooted closer to Arya, rolling his own blunt between his fingers and sucked on it for what seemed like forever before holding it to the side. He took the back of Arya's head in his free hand, drawing her closer and kissing her on the lips, making her open her mouth with his own and blowing the smoke through to her. It went straight down her throat and lungs, making her feel lightheaded.

Arya leaned back, breathing a little heavily from the kiss and the drug. "Okay," she said in a small voice. "I get it."

"Yeah," Gendry said, staring hard at Aegon. "I get it, too."

He stood up with his joint in his hand, and walked over to the balcony doors, sliding them open and stepping outside.

Arya looked over her shoulder at him before turning back to Aegon, her eyes wide and accusing. "Are you sure you get it?" he asked smugly. "Because I'd be glad to try that out with you."

Arya rolled her eyes and walked outside to stand with Gendry, taking another hit, properly this time, and blowing the smoke out.

"You're a natural," Gendry said sarcastically without even looking at her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know it would end up like this."

"I know. You were only trying to help. I get it."

Arya put her head on his shoulder and glanced up at him, a small smile on her lips. "Wanna try that whole blowback thing again?" she asked suggestively.

Gendry laughed, rolling his eyes and turned to her, gesturing for her to take another hit. She did, and he watched as he placed his own in his mouth. They took the blunt out at the same time and leaned in, kissing long and slow. It was a kiss that went nowhere and everywhere at the same time, tongues dancing with each other and smoke curling in their mouths and traveling down their throats to their lungs. Arya put her free hand over the back of Gendry's neck, pulling him against her and kissing him even harder.

"Arya," Gendry gasped against her mouth, a little more smoke puffing out between his lips as he said her name.

"Yeah?" Arya asked in the same breathless tone.

"Wanna get out of here?"

She did nothing but nod.

. . .

The ride back to Arya's house was quiet, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. They held hands in the space between their two seats and Arya stared out the passenger side window while Gendry looked at the road ahead of him.

When they parked outside Arya's building, Arya glanced over at Gendry. "Do you wanna come upstairs for a bit?" she asked.

Gendry smiled at her and nodded. "Sure."

It was two in the morning and everybody was probably sleeping by now, so Arya and Gendry crept up quietly to her room. The moment they closed the door behind them, Gendry had her up against the wall and was kissing her fiercely.

Arya could taste the marijuana from the hotel and the cigarettes he had been smoking in the car ride back here, mixed with the alcohol he had been drinking tonight and just the regular taste of  _Gendry_. She decided this was her favorite taste ever.

"Arya," Gendry said raggedly, his hands finding purchase on her hips. "I don't care. I don't care if you never say it back. You can take all the time in the world, tell it to me for the first time on my deathbed or not at all. I won't care. I  _don't_  care. But I am in love with you and that's not going to change. I'm so in love with you and I always will be. Nothing can stop that and I don't care if you don't say it back to me."

Arya felt out of breath. She felt like she was going to fall if Gendry let go of her, but he never would. If she knew one thing about Gendry, it was that he would never let her go.

She opened her mouth to answer, but then the door opened and the light turned on, and the yelling started.

"Arya?" Robb said. "Arya, what the hell is this?"


	22. The End Of Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to start the chapter with a quick little disclaimer. I got a lot of comments about the previous chapter, in reviews and on messages on tumblr, concerning the fact that Arya, Gendry, Dany, and Aegon smoked weed. To be honest, I'm indifferent about pot-smoking, but I don't encourage it. It was something that happened in the story. It was a decision Arya made. Will it come back to bite her in the ass at some point? No. Will she become a druggie who needs rehab because her first time smoking a joint introduced her to the world of cocaine and heroine? No. Because it was a little blip in the story. I'm sorry if I offended anyone in the previous chapter (It was not my intention to do so, and I hope I never ever offend anyone while writing this story).

"Arya, how could you be so stupid?" Catelyn yelled at her daughter, her voice steadily rising with each word that escaped her mouth. Her face was almost as red as her hair, the flush bright and prominent in her anger.

"I'm not being stupid!" Arya protested.

"He's  _twenty-four_. You're nineteen years old!"

Arya pressed her back harder into the back of the chair she was sitting in and glared at her mother with as much force that she could muster up. She still felt vaguely drunk and high from earlier that night, and all the yelling was not helping. Her mind had mostly cleared up but there was still a dull throbbing in the back of her mind that just refused to go away. She closed her eyes and put her index and middle fingers against her temples, trying to ease the pain that was steadily building in her head.

Her eyes went over to Robb, who was sitting stiffly in the chair across from her at their dinner table. He wasn't willing to look at her, eyes pointedly trained on the dark wood of the table. After he had found Arya and Gendry kissing in her room, the first thing he had done was get Cat and Ned, who were sleeping in their room, and tell them all about what he saw. Now, it seemed as if the whole family except for Bran and Rickon had decided to join them downstairs to hear Cat and Ned yell at their youngest daughter for her choices in men.

Gendry, who was sitting beside her, held her hand tightly under the table, his thumb rubbing gently against the back of her hand in an attempt to soothe her building nerves. She knew what they had been doing had been risky, and this was the exact reason she had wanted to keep their relationship a secret. If it hadn't been such a serious issue in her parents' eyes, she would have said she told him so.

"I'm not a child," Arya said reasonably, lowering her voice to a normal level and looking intently at her parents. "I'm nineteen years old, yes, and I am old enough to make my own decisions and learn from any mistakes that come with them. But this. . .this wasn't a mistake. This is a choice I'm glad I made."

Gendry squeezed her hand even tighter at her words, and she squeezed back.

"Arya," Cat sighed tiredly. "You're still a child. You're still a little girl. You don't know what you want yet, you don't know what these actions can do to you later in your life. We're trying to protect you from making the kind of mistakes that leave lasting impressions."

Arya scoffed. "He's five years older! That's hardly a big deal, considering the kind of age gaps in some other relationships! I mean, I hardly think people will make a big deal about this whole thing like you're trying to make it out to be." She looked to her father for support so he could back her up on her point, but he was looking at Cat like she had said the most intelligent thing he had ever heard.

"Think about this for a moment," Cat said, "and really think about it. Look at what kind of family he comes from; hell, he barely comes from any family at all!" she said, as if Gendry weren't sitting right there.

Arya gasped. "How dare you?" she said. "He's a Baratheon, everyone knows it!"

"He's not a Baratheon, not really," Cat said. "He wasn't raised as one."

"And so what? What does that have to do with anything? I still like him."

"He's not for you!"

"How do you know?"

Cat slammed her hands on the table, making Sansa, who was sitting next to her, jump at the sudden noise. "Because I'm your mother and you're my daughter and not only do I want what's best for you, but I  _know_  what's best for you! And I refuse to let you ruin your life and your reputation for a boy who you may not even like in a few months while all I'm able to do is watch and wonder when you'll come crying to us about heartbreak!"

"I won't! Because even if I do end up getting my heart broken, I would never come to you about it because I know all you'll do is judge me!"

Cat jerked back as if she had been slapped.

Arya didn't care. She stood up as she felt the tears threatening to fall from her eyes, her eyes stinging with the effort it took not to cry in front of her family and Gendry. Despite hearing Sansa, Robb, and Ned call her name, she continued walking until she got to the front door and walked out, ignoring them all.

She heard footsteps running after her, trying to keep up as she walked away as fast as she could. "Arya!" Gendry called, but Arya couldn't even turn around. All she wanted was to hug him and kiss him and love him, but she was about to cry and she would not let that happen.

He caught the elevator door right as it was about to close and slid inside, slumping against the wall and staring at her with wide, beautiful blue eyes that she had grown to love so much over the past few months. Arya stared right back at him, her own eyes bright and shining with tears that had not yet shed but were so close to falling that the slightest provocation would cause her to burst into hysterics.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood to get herself to stop them from falling.

They stood in silence until they reached the lobby and exited the elevator, Arya with her hands in the pockets of her jeans and Gendry with his arms hanging lamely at his sides since he didn't know what to do with them. Together, they walked out of the building, but when they got outside to the front doors, Gendry paused and turned to face Arya fully. His face was hard and his eyes looked so incredibly sad. All Arya wanted to do was reach up and kiss it away, to get rid of everything that had happened tonight: Aegon, Robb, Cat, all of it.

And then all of a sudden, Arya was crying, the tears falling without her permission. She was breathing in deeply and raggedly, trying to get in as much as air as she could without choking on it as her sobs clawed their way up her throat. "I'm so sorry," Arya said, wiping away the tears. "Everything is a mess, this is such a huge big mess and it's all my fault. I'm so humiliated, I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry, Gendry." She wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to get herself warm. She hadn't realized how cold it was outside, and in her rush to escape her family, she had forgotten to grab a coat. All she had was a tank top to cover herself.

Gendry shook his head and wiped away her tears, shrugging out of his own jacket and draping it over her shoulders. "No," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "No, this isn't your fault, don't think that for a second. I'm sorry this had to happen, but it is  _not_  your fault, okay? I promise it isn't, I don't blame you for a single thing that happened tonight. Not at all, none of it." His lips lingered against her skin for a few seconds longer before pulling back, looking down at her tear-stained face once more before turning away.

Arya caught his wrist in her hands. "Where are you going?" she asked hoarsely.

Gendry pauses, looking down the street before turning back to her. "I, um. . .I have to get back home."

Arya furrows her brow. "Hey, wait, you're leaving?"

Gendry nodded, refusing to look her in the eye. "Yeah, I, uh. . .I have to think over a few things and get back to Renly." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's been a long night, Arya. Go get some sleep, okay?"

Arya looked at him curiously, his words not registering properly in her brain. "What do you mean, you have to go think over a few things?" she asked. "What, you need to think over things like  _us_? You need to think over what this is because of what my mother said up there?" She ran her hand through her hair, bringing the long strands over her shoulder. "Because Gendry, that doesn't mean anything. Okay? It doesn't mean anything to me, and it isn't true no matter what she says." She tried to get him to look at her, but he wouldn't.

"Listen, Arya. . ." Gendry took her hands that were framing his face in his and pulled them away from him. "Your mother is right. She's always been right about me, about what she thinks of me. It's true. I was raised without a family, I'll never truly be a Baratheon. I wasn't made for all the nice, fancy things. I'm not right for you."

" _Gendry,_ " Arya said, "are you saying you want to break this off?" She felt like her throat was closing up and her heart was constricting, making it hard to breathe properly. "Are you. . .are you breaking up with me?"

Gendry shrugged his shoulders. "I'm saying. . ." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck, I don't know what I'm saying, Arya. I'm saying let's just see where this is going, okay? I mean, you can't even say you love me. How am I supposed to be with you when I don't even know what you want? Hell,  _you_  don't even know what you want half the time."

"You told me earlier that you didn't care if I never said it back!" she said.

Gendry put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her against the wall of the building, moving close to her and brushing his lips softly against her cheek. "Arya," he whispered against her skin. "Arya, I do, I love you so much. I love you more than I thought I ever would. But you don't know what you want with me. You couldn't tell your family about us. And your mother is right about me, they all are. Her, the rest of your family, the goddamn newspapers. They're all right. I'll never be good enough for you. You deserve. . .so much. And I can't give you that. And for that, I'm sorry. But it's just the way it is."

Arya glared at him. "So you're going to use that as an excuse to break up with me?" she said incredulously. "Well, if you're going to dump me, at least tell me the truth!" She shoved at his chest, pushing him away from her. "Don't use some shitty excuse instead!"

Gendry moved back towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "No. That is the truth."

"That's bullshit," Arya mumbled against the soft fabric of his shirt, refusing to hug him back or even touch him. She couldn't bring herself to move, not when this was all of a sudden coming to an end. They hadn't even been going out for a month. And all because Robb had found them, he was going to leave her and claim he was never going to be good enough for her.

She unwound his hands from around her body and took a step away from him, her back hitting the wall as she tried to put as much distance between their two bodies as she could. "You were right," she said. "You should go."

"Arya," Gendry said, wiping away the tears that had started falling again without her noticing. "Arya, I  _do_  love you. I swear I do. But this. . .this is just all too much for me."

Arya shook her head. "Don't make excuses for yourself. Not when you've already ended it." She looked down at the ground. "Go home, Gendry."

So he did.

And after he was gone, Arya just continued crying.

. . .

Arya walked back upstairs to the house. When she went through the front door, she saw everyone was still sitting exactly as she'd left them, all around the dining room table. Sansa turned around in her chair when she heard the door open and then slam shut, and stood up so she could walk over to Arya and comfort her. Arya held up her hands and turned her head to the side, pushing Sansa away and hiding the tears that were still streaked on her face.

Arya walked up the stairs, her tall heels making loud clicking sounds in the otherwise silent room. Sansa followed her upstairs but Arya closed her bedroom door behind her before Sansa managed to follow her inside and try to get her to talk.

She took off her tank top and threw it to the side, letting it hang off the arm of her desk chair. Then she kicked off her heels and threw her jeans over the back of the chair. There was a headache building in her head, something Arya knew she wouldn't be able to repress for the rest of the night even if she took a few sleeping pills before she went to sleep. It was just something she'd have to deal with.

Arya was standing in her bathroom in her bra and underwear, wiping off her makeup when the knock came. She glanced out the bathroom door and looked suspiciously at her bedroom door with narrowed eyes. "Go away!" Arya called out, and winced as she heard the hoarseness of her own voice, the rawness of her throat protesting uncomfortably when she tried to speak.

There was silence after that, and Arya thought that the person who had been knocking at her door had hesitated after debating if they should knock, then decided it was best if they just left her alone.

And it was for the best, Arya thought as she changed into her pajamas and crawled under her heavy blanket. She didn't want to talk to her family right now. She didn't want to let them see how much their words had affected her, how broken she felt right now.

And over a boy, Arya thought, disgusted with herself. She was upset over a  _bo_ _y_. A boy, yes, but a boy who had said he loved her. A boy who told her she was beautiful and that she mattered and that whatever opinion society had formed about her and her reputation didn't mean a single thing to him. . .A boy who had made her feel so accepted.

Arya brushed away one last stray tear from her cheek and fell asleep.

. . .

"Arya?" Aegon asked, stepping aside to let Arya inside the hotel. "What are you doing here?"

Arya walked into the hotel room, looking around casually. "Me and Gendry broke up."

Aegon raised his eyebrows, walking up behind her. "Oh?" Arya nodded, still not turned to face him. "Can I get you a drink?"

Arya shook her head and turned around, her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not in the mood for a drink," she said.

And then she kissed him.

She did not kiss him like she kissed Gendry. She kissed Gendry softly, gently, tenderly. She kissed him like she was in love with him. She was kissing Aegon, however, as if she was drowning and he was the only source of oxygen she could get to. She kissed him with desperation and maybe there was a hint of longing and sadness for the person she had just lost. Everything was aggression and hands and teeth and tongue and Arya felt like she couldn't  _breathe_  when he kissed her back instantly. It was as if he knew she was going to kiss him and he was showing her everything he had wanted to do to her since they first met. Arya yanked her head back and separated their mouths abruptly, eyes wide as she looked up at him.

Aegon stared right back at her and something passed between the two of them in those three seconds they weren't kissing. Something strange and incomprehensible and if anyone else had been around, they wouldn't have understood a single thing. But a hundred things passed between them in those few moments:  _No, Dany isn't here right now. Yes, I know it's four in the morning but I couldn't sleep so here I am. Yes, I want this._

After that point, it was just a race to get to the bedroom. Arya wrapped her arms around Aegon's neck and jumped up, her legs cradling his hips and her ankles locking together around his lower back. She made sure to keep her eyes closed, unsure if she would be able to stand the sight of Aegon's face as he kissed her. She only wanted to feel, to forget about Gendry and his stupid excuses and her family and their awful judgments. She wanted to escape in a world of pure bliss and ecstasy, and the only way to do that, it seemed, was with Aegon. He had always said he'd be able to give her what she needed, so now she was testing it out.

When they broke through the bedroom door and slammed it shut behind them, Aegon teared his lips away from hers and set her down, pressing his mouth to her neck and continuing down. Arya let out a high-pitched sigh and tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling.

Aegon came back up to his regular height and looked down at Arya, his hands on both her shoulders and his fingers playing with the straps of her shirt. He slid one strap of the tank top down and Arya batted his hands away. She took the hem of her shirt in her two hands and lifted it up and off her body, tossing it to the corner of the room. Aegon followed suit, unbuttoning his shirt. Arya shoved it off his shoulders and went for the belt of his pants, unbuckling it and slipping it free from the loops of his jeans as he pushed at the waistband of her sweatpants. She stepped out of them and he kicked his own jeans off to the side where they wouldn't get in the way.

"Arya," Aegon whispered. "Please. . ."

Arya raised her eyebrow. "What?"

"Please tell me you really want this."

Arya blinked twice and held her breath as she thought.

". . .I  _do_  really want this."

There weren't any more interruptions after that. There was no pausing for reassurances or taking off clothes. When they kissed again, Aegon's hands went around her back so he could unclasp her bra and slide it off her shoulders. Arya pushed her tongue into Aegon's mouth and walked him backwards towards the bed until his knees hit the edge of the low mattress. He fell on his back, bringing Arya down with him. She climbed up over him and put her knees on either side of his waist, kissing him hard. There is no word that can accurately describe how Arya feels. There's no way for her to say how she wants everything Aegon wants to give her because she's not sure she wants it  _all_. And if Arya cared, she might think about how that makes her sound like a bad person.

He's hovering above her, one hand braced against the headboard while the other is pressed down next to her head, looking at her with those strange eyes that she saw so much of in the Hamptons. Arya doesn't like the sight, so she raises herself up and kisses him again.

Being with Aegon, Arya realizes when he finally slides inside her with a grunt, is very different from being with Gendry. She is not afraid to claw her nails down Gendry's back because he isn't scared to take hold of her hair. With Aegon, Arya feels like a stranger. They know each other and she might consider him a friend if his actions weren't so questionable, but his body is a stranger to her, an unfamiliar being.

He is too gentle with her because he doesn't know what she likes.

Gendry is gentle with her because he loves her. Or loved her. He was never gentle with her because he didn't think she could handle something rough or more raw, but because he wanted her to feel. . .cherished.

Arya paid attention to none of it. She let Aegon flip their bodies over so he could be on top, let him kiss her shoulder and collarbone and move his hands up to her chest. She let him be in control because for once in her life, she wanted none of it. She wanted no responsibility and no control and she wanted to have a part of her life that was not in her hands. She didn't want to think about decisions and choices, so she let Aegon take over her body, let him claim her lips and thrust inside her as he quieted his own groans and moans with her mouth. And when he finished, when Arya came down from her own high, he rolled off of her and they both sat there, breathing heavily in the bed.

Arya panted slightly, her hair strewn about the pillows, turned to face Aegon but keeping her mouth shut.

"Hey, Arya?" he asked finally.

"Yeah?"

"Can I take you out on a proper date?"

Arya bit her lip as she thought about it. Did she want him to take her out? Did she want him to be able to say that he had some kind of claim on Arya Stark? Although, she would make sure he didn't think he had a claim to her, of course. No one  _owned_  her, that was for sure. But even after all that, even when she made herself clear in the fact that he would not be able to make her choices for her, he would still be. . .with her. He would still be a part of her. She thought of Gendry, and how the months leading up to them finally getting together had been so stressful, so full of back-and-forth and meaningless banter that only succeeded in putting more distance between the two of them instead of bringing them closer to what they really wanted.

But Arya didn't want to talk about Gendry. She didn't want to think about him. She didn't even want him to be in her life anymore.

She shrugged and turned around on her back. "Sure," she said exhaustively. "Why not?"


	23. Conflict of Interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I've left this story for the past few months. And I know most of you don't really care about the reason for that, and honestly, that's kind of the whole problem.
> 
> I'd like to say something before you read this chapter. I don't know if any of you have ever been the victim of hate comments. I don't know if any of you have ever posted any yourself. But I do know that it hurts no matter what. The comments that people left for the last chapter were unacceptable. They were disgusting. People told me the story "went from just being okay to being a pile of shit". Someone told me that they were glad they never bothered to leave a comment or hit the kudos button because it wasn't worth it now. (Which, by the way, is even more disgusting because that basically means someone was reading this story for twenty-two chapters and more or less liked it but never commented. Why? Because they were probably too lazy to do so BUT when something in the story happened that they didn't like, they were just all too eager to point out that they were never going to read my stuff again instead of politely saying they didn't agree with my decisions, like the other nice and well meaning people who commented.)
> 
> I was this close to deleting. I had my finger over the delete button for a half hour after I started getting comments saying they hated my story. But then I realized that if I deleted, I would be letting them win. And I did not want to give in to the anxiety that I get over my own writing because they don't deserve that. I'd like to make one thing clear. Fanfiction? It's for fun. Words? They hurt if you use it harmfully. Insults? They stay with me. People like angst in their stories. They love it most of the time. Making Arya sleep with Aegon was something I wrote and I won't take it back or say I regret it. Because you know what? I hate Aegon and Arya together. They don't even know each other in canon. I ship Gendry and Arya so hard and everybody here knows that. I hated writing the last chapter. I broke up Gendrya, and I made Arya sleep with Aegon. But guess what? No one would have been satisfied if I had just written a cookie-cutter sugar-coated love story where Gendry and Arya meet, fall in love, have lots of sex in his garage, he becomes rich, and then they ride off into the sunset. I would have gotten even more hate for that.
> 
> Characters go through a lot of shit. Arya is flawed in TAOI. And I know it. I don't need people commenting every other minute about how "bad her choices are" or how "she acts like a child". Because I know that. It's the whole point of character development.
> 
> No one has ever given me hate before on my work. I've had people badger me for updates, but even then I took it as a compliment because they wanted the updates soon even though they were stressing me out. I've had people tell me politely and kindly what they liked and didn't like about the story, in such a sweet way. But never have I ever gotten hate. And this was just too much for me.
> 
> So yeah. Here's your new chapter, for those of you who are still sticking around.

  _To Arya Stark,_

_You are hereby cordially invited to an intimate dinner party hosted by Renly Baratheon_

_December 28, at 7:30pm_

Arya stared down at the invitation she held in her hands, running her thumb back and forth across the thick, creamy white paper. It felt weirdly heavy in her hands. She set it down on the glass coffee table in front of her and leaned back in the couch, sitting up straight with her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked up at Sansa, who was looking right back at her with her arms crossed over her chest, one perfectly arched eyebrow cocked accusingly at her. She looked impatient, and she knew that wasn't good

"I think you should go," Sansa said finally after waiting for Arya to speak with no progress. She tucked a piece of red hair behind her ear and took the invitation from the table, ignoring Arya's hand as she tried to snatch it back. She flipped it over, looking to see if there was more to the invitation, but there was nothing else other than those three lines. She blew out a breath of air from her mouth and sat down next to Arya, putting the invitation back on the table where it had been seconds ago.

"Why should I?"

"Because you were invited," Sansa said as if it was obvious. "And because Renly clearly wants you to go. None of us got an invitation."

Arya continued looking down at the invitation, folding her arms over her chest and crossing one leg over the other. Absentmindedly, her ankle began jiggling, one of the habits she had picked up on whenever she got bored or nervous. Right now, she was on the nervous side. The thought of going to Renly's house for an _intimate dinner party_. . . .She internally shuddered. _Gendry_ would be at the party. He lived with Renly now, Arya recalled. Gendry, her old secret boyfriend of only a month, who had broken up with her because her own family couldn't help themselves from making him feel like he was nothing more than a piece of peasant trash who had accidentally managed to stumble into the golden kingdom without alerting the guards but had inevitably disrupted the careful society they had all built up. To Arya, he was _so much more_. Not that she could think things like that anymore, Arya thought. Not only were they broken up, but she doubted her new partner, Aegon Targaryen, would be thrilled to hear her thoughts right now. She still didn't know what to call him, since they weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but they had had sex more than once and gone on a few dates since Gendry had broken up with her.

"Alright," Arya said finally, still glaring at the invitation as if it had committed a personal offense to her. "I'll go. I hope they don't mind if I bring a plus one, though."

Sansa wrinkled her brow in confusion for a moment, but when it clicked, her eyes widened. " _Arya_ ," she hissed, "don't."

Arya raised her eyebrows. "Why not?" she asked. "Me and Gendry aren't seeing each other anymore. I'm seeing Aegon. It shouldn't be a problem."

"That's a new low, even for you."

"Even for me?" Arya repeated. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Sansa shook her head. "Forget it. Do what you want."

"I will!" Arya called after her as her sister walked up the stairs, her red hair flying behind her.

Arya made her way to her room, cell phone in hand. She sat on her bed, swinging her legs back and forth and letting her ankles gently bump into the leg of her bed. She opened her phone and clicked on Aegon's name, putting it to her ear and praying he would answer so she could get this part over with. When he answered, she immediately perked up. "Aegon?"

"Arya?"

"Hi!" Arya said perkily. Too perkily, she thought after. "Um, I just got an invitation in the mail from Renly Baratheon. He's having an intimate dinner party on the 28th, and I wanted to know if, ya know. . .if you wanted to be my date."

"Your date?" Aegon asked. She could practically _hear_ him smiling into the phone. She just knew he was gloating on the other side of the phone about how Gendry would undoubtedly see them together, how he would be able to mark some kind of imaginary territory on her. "I would love to."

"Great," she said. "I'll see you then."

She hung up the phone and threw it to the other side of the mattress, eyeing it distastefully. Maybe Sansa was right, she thought. Maybe this was a new low for her.

But she was raised as a Stark in the Upper East Side. Planning and executing a scheme was basically a rite of passage here in Manhattan.

And it wasn't even that bad.

. . .

It was bad.

Arya felt out of place the moment she walked into the house with her elbow linked with Aegon's.

Aegon looked down at her curiously. "Are you feeling okay? You were quiet the entire ride here," he remarked. "Are you feeling sick? Do you want to go back home?" he asked.

Arya shook her head. "No, don't worry, I'm fine. It's just weird to be here. . ." She paused when she saw Aegon's jaw clench visibly. She rushed to cover up her mistake. "Because of Bran, you know. It's just. . .weird."

Aegon relaxed. "Right, of course. Well, if you're sure you want to stay, we will. I'll go say hello to everyone."

He disappeared and Arya let out a sharp breath, closing her eyes and counting to ten.

"Arya."

She hadn't even gotten to five and she was already seeing him.

Arya opened her eyes and stared at Gendry, blinking rapidly to make sure this was him and she wasn't picturing him in her mind's eye. But no matter how many times she closed her eyes and wished him to leave, he still stood there, waiting for her to greet him back.

"Hi, Gendry."

"How are you?"

Arya raised her eyebrows. How _was_ she? She was horrible. Her family was going through hell with the papers, the boy who said he loved her broke up with her, and now because of her own impulsive actions after said breakup, she was stuck in a weird relationship that wasn't even a real relationship and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to _be_ in a real relationship. At least, not in one that didn't involve Gendry as the person she was dating.

"I'm doing great."

It was a sickening lie that nearly burned her throat when she said it, but Gendry didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't show it.

"That's great. I'm doing good, too."

"That's great."

Gendry smiled woodenly at her, and Arya could do nothing but stare back at him, wondering silently if this was going to be their lives: Meeting up at the occasional party every few months, try to ignore each other and, when they could no longer pretend they weren't in the same room, be forced to talk to engage in simple small talk with each other, when they had done so much more in the past? The thought genuinely hurt. Arya didn't know what she would do if that was how her delicate friendship, or relationship, or even acquaintanceship, with Gendry would be like.

"Are you here with anyone?" Gendry asked, hesitantly. Arya cocked her head to the side, looking over Gendry's shoulder at Aegon, standing with Renly Baratheon and shaking his hand.

"Um, yes, I am actually. Aegon. He's...right over there." She pointed.

Gendry didn't turn around, but his eyes tightened and his mouth turned down at the corners of his lips. He was incredibly tense, it was obvious to anyone, even if Arya didn't want to see it.

"What about you? Do you have someone with you tonight?"

"No."

The answer was short and terse, but that one word filled Arya with an embarrassing amount of relief she had no right to feel.

"Oh. Have you met any new people Renly's introduced you to?"

"No."

"Do you have any other parties to go to? I expect Renly will want to bring you to—"

"No."

Arya fell silent.

"How have you been, Gendry?" Arya asked one more time, dropping her high-pitched, fake voice.

Gendry stared back at her, and for a moment, Arya thought he was going to say _No_ one more time, an abrupt end to a conversation that wasn't really even a conversation.

But he didn't. He didn't exactly tell the truth, though, either.

"I'm doing great."

Arya's face fell, her heart fell, she felt as if she herself had fallen. He was pretending. Fine. She could pretend just as well, if not _better_ , than him. She'd be damned if she let him win this.

"Perfect," she said coldly. "Well, I'm going back to Aegon. He'll be wondering where I am by now."

She gave him one last look and turned back to find Aegon.

He had left Renly and was now standing with two glasses of champagne in his hand, clearly looking out for her. Arya walked up to him and tugged on his elbow lightly. He turned on her with a smile on his face, and he handed one of the glasses to her.

"Thanks," she said, smiling at him as she took a sip from the glass. Linking her elbow through his, Arya looked out at the crowd before her, at the crowd that was staring right back. She could practically feel everyone's eyes on her.

"How's Gendry doing?" Aegon asked.

Arya wrinkled her nose. "He's doing just fine," she said, a hint of bitterness coloring her voice.

Aegon caught on to it and jumped. "Is he?" he asked, all too casually. "You two seemed tense over there together."

Arya raised her eyebrows at him. "Were you watching?" she asked.

He snorted. "No. But anyone could cut the tension and the awkwardness between you two with a knife."

She rolled her eyes. "What a cliche," she said, ignoring his statement.

Sliding her arm from his, Arya crossed her arms over each other, silently sipping her champagne as she watched the crowd and tried to ignore Aegon. He made a few bland attempts at striking up a conversation, but she just nodded and hummed in agreement before falling back into silence. Eventually he gave up, and as Arya peeked a glance at him, looking sullen and annoyed, she rolled her eyes again and sighed loudly at the guilt already tugging at her.

"Aegon?" His name came out like an unsure question, as if she wasn't sure that was really his name.

"Arya?"

"Are we...considered official?" Arya asked.

Aegon's eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised, and and Arya felt a small pinch of pride at finally gaining a reaction.

He set his champagne flute on the table they had been leaning against and turned towards her, arms crossing over his suit. Aegon was looking at her like she was a mystery waiting to be solved, and Arya hated it.

"Well, I guess that all depends," he said eventually, after making her wait for a few moments of awkward silence. Arya waited a few more seconds for him to continue, but he just stayed quiet. Impatiently, she gestured with her hand for him to speak, and he laughed lowly. "I mean, it depends on _you_ , Arya. Do you want to be official? I'm not going to just...stick a label on you or anything like that when you just broke up with Gendry over there."

Arya cocked her head to the side and sighed, throwing a short look over her shoulder at Gendry.

He was standing by himself with a bottle of beer in his hand, looking even more tense than before.

Aegon continued, "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'd love to say that we're official, you know? But...but I mean, if you're not sure...well, it wouldn't be fair to you, would it? If I just said we were official and blindsided you like that."

Arya considered his words for a few minutes, thinking carefully. No, she didn't want to be official just yet. Not...not so soon after breaking up with Gendry. Or, well, after _Gendry_ breaking up with _her_. She set her own champagne flute down and tucked her chin, biting her lip carefully. "I guess...I guess I'm not sure what I want," she said truthfully. "I don't really think I can handle a relationship right now. Not so soon after Gendry broke up with me." Out loud, the words just sounded pathetic. "I would, though...Eventually."

Aegon nodded, and if Arya looked closely enough, she could have sworn she saw his eyes flash with anger. She supposed that was fair. It was wrong to lead him on like that, she knew it was. But it would be his choice to stay and wait for her...wouldn't it?

"I understand," he said, but his voice clearly said he _did not_ understand. Even worse, he was irritated with her, possibly even angry with her.

Arya opened her mouth to say something, to defend herself, to do _something_ , but he announced he was going to talk with some more people, and he'd see her later. She loosed a breath and slumped against the table, snatching her champagne once more and downing the contents.

Asshole.

He had been the one who said he'd be more than willing to wait for her to become official. He'd been the one to say he didn't want to pressure her. Arya silently wondered if he had only said that because he was so sure she would have said she'd love to be his real girlfriend. As if she was so easily wooed. Frustrated and annoyed, Arya grabbed another champagne from a passing waiter and began to slowly sip at it as she walked around.

Arya wandered towards the back of the house, the long skirt she was wearing brushing the carpeted floor. At the suggestion of Sansa, Arya had worn the high-waisted black skirt with a pretty blouse she'd borrowed from her sister, tucking it into the waistband of the skirt. It must have been a good idea, because when she was leaving the house to meet Aegon outside the building, her mother had told her she looked very pretty. Arya would have been lying if she said it didn't make her feel good.

Stepping through the doors that led to the balcony at the back of the house, Arya saw a very familiar back presented to her, though it was clad in a suit she was not used to seeing. But that back. She'd know that back anywhere. She'd dragged her nails down the skin of that back numerous times. She'd turned her own back on him just a few minutes before. Arya took a deep breath and stepped closer to Gendry, who was still unaware of her presence. He was staring out at the view of Renly's vast backyard, hands gripping the rail of the balcony tightly with a glass of champagne balancing on the stone. Arya cautiously put a hand on his back, the fabric of his suit feeling unfamiliar to her fingers. She touched him very softly, not wanting to scare him when he was so clearly deep in thought.

Just as he expected, Gendry jumped a little, the muscles beneath her fingertips squirming and shifting.

"Sorry to scare you," Arya whispered, coming up next to him and leaning against the railing of the balcony.

Gendry let out his breath, closing his eyes. "Arya," he said, almost relieved. "What is it?"

Arya shrugged, tapping her nails against the railing. "I'm sorry. About earlier."

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I was being a bit of an asshole. I shouldn't have been so rude to you, I know. I didn't mean to come off as so...rude to you. It just bothered me that you're already with Aegon so soon after..." Gendry cleared his throat uncomfortably and Arya flicked up one of her eyebrows. "Well. Since we broke up."

Arya scoffed. " _What_?" she said, her voice reaching a higher pitch. Gendry looked over at her in surprise. "You arrogant _ass_ ," she continued. "You break up with me and then expect me to sit around mourning it? You dumped me; I am completely allowed to see whoever the hell I want whenever I want, no matter how long it's been since we broke up. Since _you dumped me_."

Gendry's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, only to close it once again right after.

"No," Arya cuts him off, holding up her hand. "How dare you? How arrogant can you be to think I'll just sit around crying over the fact that you broke up with me for the _stupidest reason_? How can you expect that of me? Do you not know me at all?"

With a pained expression, Gendry tried to reach out to her. "I didn't mean it like that—"

"Then how did you mean it?" Arya asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Because I'm so sick and tired of playing games with you, Gendry. It took so long for us to finally be together, and then you reject me, and now you expect to be single for a significant amount of time, and for what? For your ego? Your pride?"

Gendry gripped her by the waist and drew her closer. "You don't even like him," he hissed in her ear, sending chills down her spine. "I know you don't. Because I see you two together. I see how you look at him. Like you're _bored_. Like he doesn't do anything for you."

Arya made a noise in the back of her throat, something between a groan and a snort. "Please," she said. "Aegon does plenty for me. He's respectful and kind to me, and he—"

"Don't kid yourself, Arya," Gendry says, rolling his eyes. "You know that's not what I mean."

Arya's cheeks flame red as she realizes what Gendry was talking about. " _Shut up_ ," she said, baring her teeth at him. "You don't even know what it's like between me and Aegon so I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

"Arya." He says her name so softly, so unlike the grip he has on her waist, his other hand wrapping around the back of her neck. The sound of her name on his lips causes her eyes to flutter closed for a moment before remembering herself, remembering where she was and who she was with.

" _You_ broke up with _me_ ," Arya said, trying to put as much venom—venom she didn't feel, venom she didn't _mean_ —into that one sentence. "Never forget that—"

Gendry's hand tightened on the back of her neck and he dragged her closer, kissing her fiercely.

Despite herself, Arya kissed him back. Her hand went up to loop around his own neck, pulling him down to her height while her other hand grappled for the balcony's railing so she could have something to steady herself with.

He coaxed her lips open with his tongue, and it was then that Arya pushed him away, breathing hard. Glaring hard at him, she reached up to wipe her mouth, but her fingers brushed against her lips and she paused, still sensing the tingling that lingered there from his kiss.

"Don't ever do that again," she whispered, but it came out too weak for her to sound like she meant it. Which, if Arya was being truthful with herself for once, she didn't. Not at all.

Gendry tried to reach out and touch her, but Arya jerked her arm back before he could take her hand in his.

Backing out of the balcony, she pushed through the doors and slammed them shut behind her, thanking whatever god was up there in heaven that the doors were covered with curtains.

Making her way through the crowd, Arya searched for Aegon purposefully, her gait determined and her face set in an almost-fearful expression filled with intention and meaning.

Still feeling the kiss lingering on her lips, Arya tried to ignore the feelings that he just kept inspiring within her, and when she finally spotted Aegon across the room, she tried to convince herself that, at the sight of him standing there by himself, she forgot all about Gendry.

She wasn't stupid, though, and she couldn't even fool herself into thinking that was possible.

But Arya made herself walk across the room, the already large area seeming to get wider and wider with each step Arya took. Eventually, Aegon looked up at her and he raised his eyebrows questioningly, his expression looking bored, but Arya could see the desperation hiding underneath, the hope that was begging to shine through. She finally made her way to him and, before he could say anything, she grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him hard. Roughly enough that he would feel bruised lips for hours after, and long enough that Arya managed to wash away the taste of Gendry's own lips that still stayed even as she kissed another man.

When she broke away from him, she took in a shaky breath and prayed that she didn't smell like Gendry's cologne, and if she did, she prayed that Aegon couldn't smell it. His face showed no emotion that betrayed the thought, so she just gave him a small smile, scared that if she tried to smile a little wider, she'd cry instead. "I do want to be with you," she said. "For...for real."


	24. A Thin Line Between Love and Hate

Arya opened the door to her house, slinging her purse on the small table in the entryway. She let out a long, drawn out sigh as she took a look around the house, and a feeling of uneasiness crept up on her as she realized she felt like a stranger in her own home, a different person than she’d been when she walked out the door last night. Even after years of feeling like a stranger in her big home with expensive things, she had never felt so lost like this.

The sound of heels clicking their way through the house got Arya’s attention, and she turned her head just in time to see Sansa appear in the entryway, dressed in a sweater and a pair of leggings, her heeled boots zipped up to her knees. She looked surprised to see Arya standing there, wearing the same outfit she’d worn at Renly’s last night.

“Arya,” she said, taking a quick glance at the clock. Arya looked over as well. It was nine in the morning. Normally, she’d be sleeping in and wouldn’t get up for another two hours at least, but here she was, walking back through the front door. “We had no idea where you were last night, and you didn’t call. I was just about to call as soon as I left.”

Arya tucked her hair behind her ear before tying it up in a messy bun on top of her head. “I ended up staying the night at Dany’s apartment.”  _With Aegon_ , she thought, the unspoken words hanging heavily between the two sisters. She didn’t want to tell Sansa that she slept in Dany’s bed with her, the other girl holding Arya through the night as she fought the tears begging to come out. “Where are you going?”

Sansa bit her lip, and Arya knew she had caught on to who else lived in Dany’s apartment, but she chose not to mention it, chose not to speak of the boy who held Arya’s attention. “I’m off to see Margaery,” she said, her hands fitting themselves into the pockets of her sweater. “And Willas.” The boy’s name brought a lightness to Sansa’s face, a lightness Arya hadn’t seen in a long time.

Arya could do nothing but nod, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she tried to fight off the tension building in the room. There are fresh tears making their way into her eyes, and though she tries to fight them off, not wanting Sansa to see her cry, her sister sees them anyway, and she immediately makes her way over to Arya.

“Arya, what’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes showing nothing but concern and fear for her little sister. “What happened last night?”

But Arya couldn’t get the words out—they were trapped behind the lump in her throat that kept growing bigger and bigger. She wiped at her eyes and shook her head, looking away from Sansa’s gaze. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” she said, waving the issue away with her hand as if it was a fly. “It was just...a long night, that’s all.”

“Arya, I haven’t seen you cry since you were eleven,” Sansa said, reaching out to take Arya’s hand in hers. “Please, just tell me what happened so I can help you. So we can  _all_ help you. It’s killing us to see you like this lately.”

“Oh, is it?” Arya asked, a biting edge to her words. There were no longer tears in her eyes, but the bitterness in her voice was real.

At this, Sansa freezes, her hesitation showing Arya that she finally understood what happened last night. “Oh, Arya,” she sighed. “Is it because of Gendry? Because you guys broke up?” The words are too gentle— _broke up_ , as if they had a few petty fights over little things instead of her family’s crushing concern over their reputation in society.

“It’s not just that,” Arya responded anyway, sniffing once and leaning her head back against the door. “It’s just...everything. There’s Aegon, who said he wanted to be with me for real, and then I told him I’d think about it, and then I saw Gendry, and that didn’t make it any better, especially when Gendry kissed me and made everything even worse—”

“Gendry kissed you?” Sansa asked, her mouth popping open in shock, her lips forming a little  _O_  as she took in Arya’s words. “But he broke up with you! You were dating...Aegon.” Her mouth formed a grim line as she spoke his name, and Arya felt guilty at how much she wanted to agree with Sansa’s expression. “He knows that.”

“And he still kissed me. And I kissed him back.”

“Oh, Arya,” Sansa sighed, her face covered with pity.

“I don’t want a lecture, Sansa,” Arya said loudly, pushing away from the door and moving into the kitchen, grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl.

“I’m not going to lecture you. I’m the last person to judge, believe me.”

Arya began peeling her orange rather violently, throwing Sansa a quick glare from her spot at the kitchen island. “Then what are you going to do? Tell me to follow my heart? I tried that, and Mom yelled at me for dating Gendry. I tried to fight for him, fight for  _us_ , and he rejected me as if we were nothing.” She shook her head. “I’m done fighting,” she said. “I want to do what I want for once.”

Sansa scoffed. “And what do you want, Arya?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you want Aegon? Do you want the man who Dad warned you against because he  _knows_  that family, and who they are? Do you want the man who tried to take you away from Gendry when he knew that you two were in a relationship? Do you want Gendry, who let you go when you were begging him to fight for you? All your life, you’ve done whatever you wanted,” she reminded her, already grabbing her keys to head out the door. “If you’re going to continue, you may as well think about what you  _actually_  want.”

Arya was left in the kitchen, her heart racing at Sansa’s words.

She didn’t like thinking about mistakes she’d made in the past. She didn’t like talking about the things she’d said or the choices she’d made.

It was probably one of her biggest flaws, her intense need to deny everything, put it all in a little box and seal it up tight, so no one could ever bring it out again. But this…

So much of who she had become over the past few months was tied to Gendry, and their relationship. Somehow, since she’d met him, she had learned to stop lashing out so quickly. She was still herself, still reluctant to share her life with the papers, still quick to defend herself against any rumors, but since she’d met Gendry, she had become... _lighter_. Lighter than she’d ever thought possible.

Silently, Arya wondered if this was how Sansa felt when she was with Willas, but she quickly shook that thought away.  _No_.

To Sansa, Willas was protection. Willas was peace, clarity, a breath of fresh air. He was a new beginning after such a tragic ending.

To Arya, Gendry was a starting point. He was the first domino, the first link in a chain reaction. She didn’t know yet if he was her tragic ending, but she really hoped not.

There was a part of Arya that wished Sansa hadn’t left. She remembered how she had reached out to comfort her after Gendry had broken up with her, and she’d pushed her away.

A petty thing for her to do, for no reason other than being too embarrassed to cry in front of her family. Her pride, if possible, was even worse than her denial.

Arya spent the rest of the day in her room, the door shut tightly. She spent the day thinking of Aegon, and how she had kissed him last night, told him she didn’t want to spend the night at home. He’d looked overjoyed at that, but she had made it strictly clear that she’d be with Daenerys for the night. After that, he didn’t seem particularly pleased, but her words were enough to placate him—for now.  _I do want to be with you_ , she’d told him, his face held tightly between her hands.  _For...for real_. When she’d walked into the penthouse Aegon and his aunt were residing in, Daenerys only had to take one look at her before she brought Arya to her room and gave her a spare set of pajamas to sleep in.

How strange, Arya thought, that she felt a stronger connection to Dany than she had ever felt to Aegon.

( O O O )

When Sansa walked back into the house later that night, Arya was sitting at the dining room table.

She had a bowl of cereal in front of her, taking small bites from the spoon. At the sound of the front door opening and closing, Arya turned around and saw Sansa standing by the doorway. She watched as she hung up her coat on the coat rack and joined her at the table.

There was a beat of silence that passed between them before Sansa spoke.

“Is there more cereal?” she asked.

“In the cupboard,” Arya responded automatically.

Sansa stood up from the chair and went to the kitchen, grabbing herself a bowl and pouring the cereal. The noise from the kitchen were the only sounds in the house, and with every scrape of the bowl against the counter, or  _clack_  of cereal against the spoon, made Arya cringe.

Finally, Sansa rejoined her at the table and sat next to her, pulling her chair closer to Arya’s than before.

“I’m sorry for what’s happened,” she said.

Arya raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Why are you apologizing?” she asked. “You didn’t do anything. It wasn’t even Mom, or Robb, or Dad, or anybody. It was me, and it was Gendry, and now it’s Aegon. It’s something that I have to deal with on my own.” She shrugged. “You were right. What you said before, I mean. My choices are my choices, and I need to learn to deal with the consequences of them.”

Sansa smiled at her, but it was a sad smile. “No, I’m sorry. For being so awful to you all these years. Always fighting, always screaming at each other. We made Mom and Dad crazy with how we argued constantly, all the time, never giving them a break.” She let out a light laugh, more like an exhale of breath than anything else. “I should have tried to bury the hatchet a long time ago. I should have learned to put my sister above anything else.”

Arya shook her head. “I should also be apologizing. I was quite awful to you, too.”

“We were both nightmares, weren’t we?”

“The worst,” Arya said, laughing for real this time.

They laughed together for a few seconds before fading into silence once more.

Arya looked over at Sansa hesitantly, curiously studying her. “What do you think I should do? About all of this, all of what’s happened?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sansa admitted. “I never had to deal with any of this. I was dating Joffrey by the time I was fifteen years old.”

“No, you didn’t have to deal with this,” Arya mused, “just much worse.” Once more, she was reminded of how much she wanted to kill Joffrey for what he had done to her.

But Sansa only put her hand on Arya’s arm, as if she knew the thoughts running through Arya’s head. Of course she did. She had always had that talent, to read people better than she let on. Arya thought back to Sansa and Willas, how different this must be for Sansa, to be with someone who actually cared for her. Even though they hadn’t explicitly said they were dating, everyone in their families knew it was only a matter of time.

But Sansa was still sensitive. She still jerked a little when someone tapped her on the shoulder and surprised her, still lowered her eyes when she heard someone raising their voice, even if it wasn’t directed at her. Arya still heard her crying sometimes at night when she was on the phone with Margaery or Willas, or even if she was by herself.

One time, Arya had walked into Sansa’s room, just the day after Sansa had come back home, and she was putting lotion on her legs, bared from the shorts she wore to sleep that night. It was the first time that Arya saw the bruises dotted all over her legs, yellow from the time they’d had to fade, but they were there, marking her with the influence Joffrey had left on her, and she felt ashamed for never having noticed just  _how_  bad Joffrey had been, just how awful he had treated her older sister.

“It’s all right,” Sansa said. “I’m okay now.”

“But how long did it take us to realize you  _weren’t_?” Arya whispered.

“I don’t blame you for not noticing,” Sansa said. “Not you, or Mom, or Dad, or Robb or Bran or Jon or Rickon. I don’t blame any of you. I blame him for everything, for all of it.”

Arya took the hand that Sansa had put on her shoulder and wrapped her fingers around hers, tightening her grip on them. Sansa gave her a tight smile, one that held both true happiness and true sadness, hope and loss.

For a moment, Arya felt comfortable in the silence that surrounded her and Sansa. She felt more at peace than she had in a long time. But Sansa was Sansa, and she had to say what was on her mind, if only to Arya.

“He still loves you, you know,” she said. Arya didn’t need to ask to know who she was speaking about. “He wouldn’t taunt you about Aegon if he didn’t.”

Arya shrugged her shoulders once, a short and brittle movement. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? I think I’ve decided to give up the chase. It’s not for me.”

Sansa stood, her hand resting on Arya’s shoulder. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved to hear that.”

( O O O )

Renly’s house was just as grand and luxurious as Arya remembered from when she’d been invited to his intimate dinner gathering two weeks ago. It all looked the same, somehow, as if the house didn’t know the secrets that had been traded within its walls.

Gendry was the one who answered the door on her third try knocking, her knuckles hitting the wood sharply in rapid strikes.

He looked surprised to see her after not hearing a word from her in the two weeks since they’d last seen each other, but he invited her inside nonetheless.

“Arya. What can I do for you?”

She laughed at the tone of his voice. “You talk like one of them now,” she said.  _One of us_ , she said silently to herself.

He bristled visibly at her words. “What can I do for you?” he repeated.

She stepped farther into the house, her eyes darting around. Yes, it all looked exactly the same. She didn’t know why she was so surprised.

“I wanted to talk,” she said simply.”

Her words seemed to pain him. When Arya turned back to look at his face, he was scrunching his eyebrows up, his forehead forming a wrinkle. “What about?” he asked. “I can’t imagine that there’s anything you’d like to discuss since we haven’t seen each other in three weeks.”

Arya scoffed and shook her head at him sadly. “Stop talking like that,” she said. “All formal and proper. I don’t like it—it’s not you.” She didn’t know why she said it, but the words were out before she could stop them. The thought of him turning into one of the stiff high-class socialites that she hated sent chills down her spine in the worst way.

“What is it, Arya?” She could hear that his patience with her was running short.

“I wanted to tell you…” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few heartbeats, opening them when her pulse had slowed. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for throwing you into this world. I’m sorry for pushing you to attend events you didn’t want to go to, I’m sorry for pushing you into a relationship that you may or may not have actually wanted, and I’m sorry for being so awful to you after it ended. I know why you did it, I do. And even though I’m not happy with it, I understand. And I hope you won’t be mad at me any longer.”

He looked shocked. “Angry?” Gendry repeated. “Arya, I’m not  _angry_  with you. I’m angry at  _myself_. I let my own insecurities get the best of me, and I let them control my feelings for you. I let them tell me that I wasn’t good enough for you, that I never would be. I told myself that I would only ever be a boy with no father who stumbled upon the wrong girl. I wanted to take it back the moment I—”

“I also came to tell you,” Arya interrupted quickly, her words rushing out so he wouldn’t finish his sentence, “that I want you to be happy. That I want you to know...I don’t regret anything that happened between us.” His eyes widened as he realized where she was going with this, but she continued talking, not letting him stop her. “Being with you was...a good thing for me, I think. A good thing for both of us. And I’m sorry that it didn’t work out.”

He reached out and took her hand in his, his thumb rubbing over the glove that covered her fingers. “I made a mistake,” he said. “I made a mistake when I said I wanted to break up with you. I never did, but I was so sure that you’d wake up and realize you could do so much better than me.”

“But you did,” she said. “And what’s done is done.”

Gendry shook his head fiercely. “Can’t you find any way to give me a second chance? Any way to give us the opportunity to start over?”

“I want to,” Arya admitted. “I really do, but there’s so much...I have to start thinking of my family. And how my relationships have an effect on them.”

“And if I talk to your parents myself?”

“I don’t think that would help.” She slipped her hand from his and lifted it to his cheek, softly settling it against his skin. “I did...I  _do_  love you.” It was the first time she’d ever said it. She felt her heart ache with how true the words rang in between her teeth. “But as much as you say it, you still live in that shadow of doubt. And I can’t always be there to tell you how wrong you are about yourself.”

Gendry froze under her touch, the sentences that were spilling from her lips swirling around his brain. How could she go from telling him she loved him to telling him she couldn’t be there for him when he needed her?

“It’s something you need to do on your own,” Arya told him, as if she was answering a question that he had never asked but was desperate to learn the answer to. “Because if I’m the only one telling you...well, you’ll never really believe it when someone tells you no, right?” She closed her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry that I had to hurt you with all of this. I wish it never happened.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, ripping her hand away from his cheek and closing it within both of his hands. “I’m not sorry for any of it. I’m sorry that I pushed you away when you said you wanted to be with me. I’m sorry that I let my jealousy get the best of me. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I’m sorry, too.”

Arya turned to walk away, but he called after her.

“And what if I call you in ten years, telling you that I still love you? Telling you that I still want to be with you?”

She turned her head over her shoulder, smiling sadly at him. “Talk to me in ten years, and we’ll see.”

With a heavy heart, Arya turned back around and walked out the door. She made it to her car before she started tearing up, and by the time she got back to her home, she was in full tears. On her way up to her room, Jon asked her what was wrong, but she shook her head, telling him that she needed time to be alone, to think. It seemed that all she was doing lately was thinking. No one had ever made her feel like Gendry made her feel, but she couldn’t tie herself to someone who put himself down all the time and questioned if she was making the right choice in being with him.

There were times, Arya thought, times just like these, when she just had to put herself first.


	25. Three Months Later

( THREE MONTHS LATER )

Arya's dress was gray, and though she really disliked dresses in general, the one that adorned her body was possibly Arya's favorite of all the ones she had been forced into. The weather in New York had begun to brighten up with winter finally coming to a slow and steady end, the March air rolling in with fresh rain and frequent sunshine. Even though there was still a leftover bite from the cold that often required Arya to step outside in a long-sleeved shirt, she didn't mind. This was her favorite weather.

Her dress, long-sleeved and flattering for Arya's small and thin frame, was perfect for this weather. It was plain, with no beads and no designs, but the more fitted top flared out into a rather flowy skirt that reached her mid-thighs, and the scooped neckline allowed the simple silver heart chain she paired with the dress to glint subtly on her neck. When Sansa had seen Arya walk down the stairs wearing the dress, she had even  _smiled_.

Then again, Sansa seemed to smile a lot more often these past three months.

The air conditioner in the ballroom was on at full blast, but even with Arya's bare legs, she didn't mind. The drinks Aegon kept passing her managed to keep her quite warm throughout the night. Though everyone knew she wasn't yet twenty-one, it only took one look from Aegon to make the bartender forget her age.

Aegon had his hand resting comfortably on Arya's knee, and she found herself not minding the display of public affection as much as she used to, and when she turned to meet his eyes, it was only to offer a sweet smile rather than a biting remark.

That was how her days went now. For the past three months, every day, she'd wake up and greet her parents, and she'd either go to class or she'd spend the day with Aegon, or she'd spend the day, surprisingly, with Sansa. Sansa, who always made casual remarks about Gendry as they browsed stores and ate sushi. Sansa, who was currently smiling as Willas kissed her cheek across the room.

Arya found herself smiling at her sister's happiness, and Aegon squeezed her knee gently. She turned to face him fully, her lips wrapped around the straw of her drink.

"You look exceptionally beautiful tonight, Arya," he told her.

Arya smiled widely at him. "Thank you," she said. "You look handsome, as well."

But her compliment was lost on him. He had shifted his attention to the door, and when she saw his eyes darken, Arya turned around to see what had changed his mood so swiftly.

And then she saw Gendry for the first time in three months.

Their last interaction stung her memory, digging its claws into her mind with the bitterness that she'd felt as she'd walked away from him for what she thought was the last time. He'd been even more bitter, if she remembered correctly, and she was certain that she did. That conversation would always be seared into her memory, unfortunately for her.

Telling him she loved him while at the same time pulling herself away from him.

She had never wanted to punch someone in the face so much as she wanted to punch herself in that moment.

"Gendry's here," Arya said, murmuring the words under her breath as if she only meant to say it to herself. "I had no idea that he would be here." She really shouldn't have been surprised, but she hadn't been aware of any of his whereabouts for so long.

Just being in the same room as him, even though they were on opposite sides of it, brought back memories she didn't care to think about.

Their first kiss, standing in the middle of her house. Their first time sleeping together. Their many conversations traded between text messages and phone calls.

And then the bad memories, as well. His jealousy over Aegon. Her family telling her that he wasn't good for her. Him believing it and breaking up with her. Kissing her at Renly's house three months ago.

When their eyes met across the room, Gendry raised his hand slowly, hesitantly, in a weary wave. She did the same, a small smile gracing her lips. One more memory came rushing back to her: Telling him that they really couldn't be together until he learned to accept who he was because she couldn't always be his spine, his backbone. Some things you just had to do on your own.

Gendry made his way over to her and Aegon, and when he reached them, Arya immediately hopped off her chair, kissing his cheek. "Gendry," she said, allowing her lips to linger for several more moments against his cheek, definitely longer than necessary. "It's been awhile since I've seen you. How have you been?"

He kissed her cheek as well, the soft touch of his lips against her skin making her eyes close for just a few seconds as she thought of what could have been if they had been born in the same world. After they parted, he straightened and held out his hand to Aegon. Aegon regarded him coldly for a few moments before he saw Arya's look and brought out his hand. The handshake was stern, unforgiving—she could see from the way their knuckles turned white and the tendons popped that it hurt both of them.

"Arya," he said, turning back to Arya. "How have you been?"

She nodded her head slowly, looking around the room. "I've been good." It wasn't a lie. Somehow, her relationship with everyone in her family seemed to improve once Arya stopped allowing her bitterness to seep through into their home.

"I heard Sansa and Willas moved in together," Gendry said.

At this, Arya couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. Her eyes found them once more. Sansa looked breathtakingly beautiful in her long teal dress, her arm hooked securely through Willas's as they made their way around the room. It wasn't a coincidence that the Lannisters hadn't been seen in awhile.

"They did. Just last week. I've been at their apartment almost every day—it's absolutely gorgeous."

They stood there, the three of them, allowing the awkwardness and the tension to swirl around them. Gendry was looking down at his shoes and fiddling with his hands behind his back, Aegon had his eyes trained on Gendry, not allowing them to waver for even a second, and Arya was caught in between them, as she had been for what seemed like forever already, willing one of them to speak before she had to do it first.

But neither of them were breaking, so Arya rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "Anyway," she said meaningfully with an imploring look to Aegon, "there are still some people we need to greet. My mother and father worked hard to pull this charity gala together, and they've had enough of me avoiding all of them for a lifetime."

She took Aegon's arm in hers and walked away from Gendry, but it was clear that it wasn't over.

As soon as they were on the other side of the room, Aegon turned on her. "Do you still have feelings for him?" he asked.

Arya had seen it coming, so she took it all in stride, simply waving his question away with her hand and rolling her eyes again.

"Aegon, don't be silly," she said, not letting her eyes leave the sea of people in front of her. "Gendry and I have been broken up for four months, already."

But she could tell that her answer wasn't good enough for Aegon. His eyes were alight with a type of anger that she hadn't seen before, an anger that was mixed with tension, betrayal, and even a little bit of sadness. As far as she could see, all of his emotions were genuine. That, if anything, was enough to make Arya feel at least a little guilty. For what, she didn't know. She'd been loyal to him the entire time, except for the one kiss she'd had with Gendry on Renly's balcony, but Arya liked to think that was excluded from her list of horrible things she'd done, since she'd told Gendry to never do that again, and later told him they couldn't be together. She had never told Aegon about that kiss, out of fear for what he would do to Gendry, but she always wondered if somehow, Aegon knew. If he knew how Gendry had backed her up against the railing of the balcony, whispering in her ear about how he knew Aegon didn't  _satisfy_  her, how he had made a mistake breaking up with her, and how he wished he could take it all back so they could be together again. She wondered if he knew that when he kissed her, all thoughts of Aegon fled from her mind.

"Look at you," Aegon said, shaking his head at her. "You can't even look at me when you deny your feelings for him. The past three months, you've walked around, pretending to be the good girl your parents have always wanted you to be, but you forget that I  _know_  you. I know you want to go out at three in the morning like we used to do in the Hamptons. I know you want to run down the streets of Manhattan with no shoes on again." He paused, crossing his arms over his chest before he spoke again, as if he needed to build up the courage to say his next words. "I know you're still in love with Gendry."

And as she tried to force her denial out from between her clenched teeth, Arya wondered if she was truly the worst girlfriend ever.

But she couldn't get the words out, and she could do nothing but stand still, trying to avoid Aegon's gaze.

He scoffed. "You can't even deny it anymore, can you?" he spat before walking away from her.

Arya knew that her worst moment was the next few minutes, when she didn't follow Aegon into the crowd. She didn't attempt to search for him. She didn't try to plead with him, to make him understand that Gendry was her first love and of course he would always have a special place in her heart for the experiences he'd given her, the feelings he'd made her feel for the first time in her life. Instead, she stood back against the wall, still surveying the crowd in front of her, blankly taking them all in without really  _seeing_  them. She wondered once again if she was the worst girlfriend in the world, not giving a care when Aegon walked away from her, not knowing if it was for the last time or if it was just another fight, added to their list of many over the past three months.

But she didn't care when she saw Gendry again, only a few feet away from her. She approached him nervously, hesitantly waving at him again. "Hey."

He faced her, surprised to see her in front of him again, and without Aegon this time. He waved back. "Hey." They stood there in silence for a few seconds before a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and Gendry quickly snatched two.

She took the second one he held out for her. "Thanks."

Silence again. Arya closed her eyes, regretting once more everything that she had done to hurt him the last time they saw each other.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time.

Arya opened her eyes, eyebrows raising. "What are you sorry for?" she asked.

"For making you feel like I was pressuring you into something that you didn't want yet. What are you sorry for?"

"For hurting you the last time we spoke to each other. It wasn't right, the things I said."

"They were true."

"They weren't!" she said, even though she knew they were.

"Arya, come on. It's been three months—it's okay. You were right. I need to fix my issues with myself before I can hope to win you back."

His words settled deep within her bones, and Arya felt a shiver travel down her spine.

She wanted that, she thought. She wanted him to call her up at four in the morning and tell her that he still loved her, that he knew she loved him, too. She wanted him to kiss her again, right in front of all these people. She wanted it so badly that it almost hurt. But she knew that couldn't happen—at least, not yet. Arya took a deep breath and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, biting her lip nervously. "Well," she said, "why don't we start by trying to become friends again before we get to that part?"

He smiled at her, a real smile that she hadn't seen in a long time. Arya grinned back at him, and for just a moment, things felt like they could be okay soon.

Gendry nodded at her, drinking his champagne slowly as he contemplated his next words carefully. "I'd like to be friends with you again," he told her. "Things haven't been the same without you. How about drinks later this week?"

"Yes," she said before he had even finished his sentence.

Gendry smiled again, and she knew they were both imagining the moment when he finally did call her up and tell her that he wanted to be with her. She'd said she loved him—it was up to him to choose what to do with that information. It had been three months of radio silence on both ends, but now that they were slowly making progress, Arya felt like they didn't really matter anymore.

( O O O )

People were crowding around Arya, their backs brushing up uncomfortably against her arms and shoulders. The force with which they were trying to push past each other made her feel claustrophobic, but she didn't say anything to Gendry, though he was also looking very uncomfortable in his seat across from her.

She didn't think it was all because of the annoying people surrounding them, though.

When the waitress set their drinks down on their table, placing them on top of a napkin and disappearing with the tray, Arya took her drink gratefully and took a long sip from it, eyes trained carefully on the table until she set the glass down.

When she looked back up, Gendry was still drinking from his own glass, his eyes focused on a spot somewhere behind her head, where he had been staring for the past ten minutes.

Arya cocked her head to the side and leaned her cheek on her hand, studying him as he tried to ignore her. "Gendry," Arya said slowly, waiting until he had his eyes on her to continue. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

Gendry opened his mouth, looking like he was ready to deny it, but then thought better of it.

"No, I don't think it will be."

Arya sighed disappointedly. She wanted to be in Gendry's life again. She wanted him to be in her life again. It wasn't  _fair_. They'd spent months— _months_ —coming together, and then they broke apart. And now, though Arya was sitting right across from him, she felt like they were farther apart than they'd ever been.

She could tell Gendry was thinking the same thing. He was fidgeting, his index finger tracing the rim of his glass, his knee bouncing uncontrollably under the table. "Maybe...I should go, Arya. You should get home. I'll drive you."

Arya's eyes shot up to Gendry's face. He was already rising from the table, taking his wallet to throw a few bills next to his drink that he barely touched. She blinked a few times in surprise, and finally shook her head. " _No_ ," she said. "Sit down. I'm not going to let you walk out of here. Do you know how badly I've wanted to talk to you for the past three months? Hell, do you know how long I've wanted to talk to you since you broke up with me?" She extended her hand across the table and pointed her index finger at his chair, which he was now simply standing next to. "Sit down, Gendry. Sit down and be my friend again, finally."

Gendry had a small smile on his face, a smile that said he'd missed her, missed  _this_. Arya had, too. What she'd just said, her little speech, had been the most Arya-like thing she'd said since they'd broken up. It felt good.

Just as he was about to take his seat again, Gendry looked behind her once more, and immediately tensed up. Arya looked behind her to see what it was, and froze.

"Arya?"

Arya took a deep breath and looked at Aegon hesitantly, her hand gripping the back of chair tightly. Her knuckles were turning white, and she loosened her hold slightly. "Aegon," she said simply, "what are you doing here?"

She didn't say it in a nasty way. It came out as if she was simply wondering what her boyfriend's plans were for the night, and asking how coincidental it was that they ended up in the same place.

Aegon crossed his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows at her. "I was supposed to be meeting an old friend for drinks tonight. I see that you had the same thought in mind for tonight, in the same bar."

"It's a small world, isn't it?"

"A bit too small," Aegon retorted with a look at Gendry, who bristled.

Without another word, Aegon turned on his heel and walked away from them. Arya exhaled sharply, and looked back at Gendry with panicked eyes. He looked tired already, motioning for her to follow him. He looked pained as he did it.

Arya followed Aegon out of the bar, only catching up to him when they were outside. He turned around to face her, the expression he wore showing anger and betrayal. Arya walked out of the bar's door, letting it swing closed behind her slowly. She stepped off the front stop and came to a stop in front of Aegon.

"Why?" he asked simply.

Arya sighed exasperatedly. "Why what?" she asked. "I didn't  _do_  anything. I was having drinks with my friend, the friend that I haven't seen in three months, the friend that I haven't properly talked to in four months. It was two old friends catching up after not speaking for too long. There's nothing to ask  _why_  about because nothing happened."

Aegon shrugged. "I don't believe you," he said plainly.

Arya was taken aback, jerking back as if she had been struck across the face. "You don't  _believe_  me?" she asked, eyebrows raising.

"I don't."

Arya scoffed and shook her head. "That's pathetic," she told him. "It's pathetic that you even think that I would cheat on you, that I wouldn't have the decency to tell you to your face that I want Gendry more than you."

Aegon regarded her coldly. "Did you rush to tell me what happened on the balcony between you and Gendry three months ago?"

Arya froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her blood was ice in her veins, her heart stilling in her chest. "That wasn't anything—"

He cut her off. "There is  _nothing_  friendly between you and Gendry. There never has been."

With that, he turned around again, and walked away from her. She had no idea if it was the last time he'd do it. She didn't know if she'd wake up tomorrow morning and see a text from him, or get woken up from a phone call from him at three in the morning. But what Arya did know was that she simply didn't care anymore, and she hadn't really cared in a while now.

Arya stood there for a few more moments, watching as the back of Aegon's head disappeared within the crowds of people on the streets. She didn't call out to him. She didn't attempt to get his attention so she could apologize as she probably should have done. She just walked back into the bar and made her way back to the table she'd been sitting at. Gendry, thankfully, was still there. His glass was empty, and there was a new one sitting next to it, the straw clasped firmly between his lips. When he noticed her standing next to her chair, he raised his eyes to her and motioned for her to sit down.

She did.

He slid the glass over to her, and she drank.


	26. The End of the Affair

Sunlight hit Arya's eyelids, and she felt like she was burning.

She tried to open her eyes slowly, carefully enough that she didn't accidentally temporarily blind herself, but the moment she cracked her eyes open even just a little, the sunlight hit her and gave her an instant headache.

Arya let out a pitiful groan and whimpered as she picked her head up from the pillows. Such a simple action shouldn't have taken as much work as it did. Squinting her eyes against the open curtains of the window and the sun that was streaming through, Arya looked around the room she was in, and immediately felt like she was out of place.

This was not her room.

This was not her bed. She wasn't under her blankets. She wasn't wearing her pajamas—in fact, she was still wearing the outfit she'd been dressed in last night. She was sitting up in someone else's bed and she was wearing last night's outfit—never a good sign.

Arya groaned once more as she swung her legs over the side of the bed very carefully. Every move of her body hurt, but it wasn't like the satisfied, tired exhaustion she felt after sex. It was the painful, strenuous throb that came from a rough night out, as if her hangover had spread from a simple headache to a full body ache.

As soon as she managed to get her feet on the carpeted floor and stand up, putting the heel of her hand to her forehead, there was a soft knock on the door. Arya squeezed her eyes shut, scoffing as she felt the knock reverberate in her head. "Who is it?" she asked hoarsely, trying to clear her throat and failing.

The door opened and Gendry stepped in, holding a glass of water with two tablets of Advil, and a plate with a croissant and a chocolate chip muffin.

"Morning," he said shyly.

Arya blinked at him, trying to remember what happened last night, and how she had ended up in Gendry's house. "Hi," she said blankly.

He walked further into the room, and settled the plate on top of the nightstand, with the water and Advil next to it. "I brought that up for you. Renly and Loras invited you to eat breakfast with us downstairs, but I thought you might still be sleeping, and that you wouldn't want to be disturbed with your...headache." He jerked his chin to the plate. "Eat first before you take the Advil. You shouldn't take them on an empty stomach. I didn't know what you would want, so I just took the muffin and the croissant. I didn't want anything heavy to upset your stomach."

Arya looked between the food and Gendry, biting her lip nervously as she tried to wrack her brain for whatever happened last night. "What happened?" she asked. "How did I end up here?"

Gendry blushed, and Arya immediately wrapped her arms around her stomach as if she was shielding herself from whatever he was about to tell her. "Well, you had quite a bit to drink last night. And I wasn't in the most sober state either, but you were...well, I really should have told you to quit while you were ahead—not that you would ever listen to me anyway, but...Anyway, I called a car to come pick us up. I wouldn't think you'd like to go back home as drunk as you were, so I just called Sansa and asked her to cover for you while I took you back here so you could sleep it off. I don't know what she told your family, but I'll assume it's something good because she told me not to worry about anything. I hope it was a good idea to believe her."

Arya continued chewing on her bottom lip, letting all the information he was giving her sink in. She believed him, everything he was saying, and as she slowly unwrapped her arms from around her waist, she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, already feeling how knotty her hair was and dreading the moment she'd have to try to brush it.

"I'm still wearing my clothes from last night," she stated.

Gendry blushed again, even harder than before. "Well—yes, I wasn't going to just undress you while you were switching between passing out and drunk-mumbling about sex on the beach."

Arya blanched. " _What_?"

Despite his blush, his face burning bright red, there was a smirk playing on the edges of Gendry's lips. "I'll assume, for you integrity, that you were talking about the drink," he teased.

Arya let out a breath in a sharp exhale, looking around the room in awe as she listened to her actions from the night before. "Shut up," she breathed, unable to think of anything more clever.

Gendry tried to keep a straight face, but Arya still saw remnants of his smile lingering. She wanted to laugh, too—from what he'd said, she sounded ridiculous. But Arya still had a headache, and she wanted it to go away soon, so she sat back down on the bed and took a bite of the croissant. Swallowing hurt her throat a little bit, probably from the burn of the alcohol, but she ate nonetheless.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said. "There wasn't supposed to be any drama."

Gendry shook his head and joined her on the bed, sitting across from her. "No, don't be sorry. There's nothing to apologize for. Aegon found us, and he took things...out of context. I admit, it probably looked bad from his point of view, but maybe you should just go to him and talk it through with him—try to explain what it was."

It sounded like the smart, rational decision, the thing a good girlfriend would do. It was what Sansa would do if she were in Arya's position. Then again, she probably would never be caught in Arya's position. She should go to Aegon—he was probably at home, with Daenerys, not hard to find at all. But she didn't want to. And she was sick of pretending that she wanted to work things out with him all the time. Arya sighed heavily, and shook her head at Gendry, silently trying to tell him what she was thinking without speaking the words.

"It was just two friends trying to reconnect, right?" Arya said quietly, hiding behind the croissant. She leaned back against the pillows and brought her knees up in front of her, raising her eyebrows at him. "Nothing for him to overreact about."

Gendry held her eyes with his own, nodding slowly. "Right. Just two friends trying to reacquaint themselves with each other after so much time not speaking. He shouldn't be mad about that at all. Nothing to worry about."

Arya cocked her head to the side, ripping another piece of the croissant and popping it into her mouth. "If only he believed me when I tried to explain that to him last night. But he didn't believe me. He didn't even try to listen to what I was trying to tell him." She sat up, back straight, trying not to lose her nerve in front of him. "I don't think he'll ever listen to me when I try to convince him that we're just friends."

Arya had a feeling she'd never be able to believe it herself.

She knew what she had to do, what she should have done months ago. If she could, she'd go back in time and stop herself from going to Aegon's apartment and sleeping with him. She would have tried to get back in contact with Gendry before they lost contact like they did after they broke up. Arya let herself sink into her own thoughts of regret for a few moments before sighing heavily, popping the Advil in her mouth and swallowing them with a gulp of water.

"I think I should get back," Arya said, standing up. Her head still hurt, and she was definitely in no position to go home, but she wasn't planning on going home. Not yet at least.

"Let me call you a car," Gendry offered, standing up with her.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll do it myself."

They stood in front of each other, Arya looking up at him hesitantly, Gendry looking down at her wearily.

"I'm sorry our night was ruined," Arya said softly. "That was definitely not how I wanted it to plan out. It was supposed to be casual, and calm, just the two of us catching up on the past...three months of our lives. I wasn't expecting Aegon to show up, or to react the way he did." The last part was a bit of a lie—she knew the moment she saw Aegon standing behind her that he was angry with her, but she wasn't expecting him to be  _that_  angry.

Gendry reached out to her, and put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Arya," he said seriously. "Don't worry about it. It's fine."

Arya smiled up at him, her eyes softening as she took in how much she cared for him, the weight of her feelings for him throwing her off for a bit. "No, it's really not," she said, laughing slightly. "But it will be soon."

Ten minutes later, she called herself a cab to arrive in front of the gates to Renly's estate. When she passed Renly and Loras on her way to the front door, she kissed Renly's cheeks and thanked him for letting her stay the night, promising that it wouldn't happen again and hoping that she wasn't too much trouble when she and Gendry had arrived last night. She made sure to tell Loras to tell Margaery that she said hello, and when she slid into the backseat of the cab, she gave the driver Aegon's address and settled back against the seat.

( O O O )

Aegon answered on the third knock, wearing a pair of low-riding sweatpants and no shirt. His hair was slightly mussed up, but he didn't look like he had a rough night. He definitely didn't look like he spent the night worrying about Arya's whereabouts, but Arya knew that he had most likely spent at least an hour talking to Dany about where she was, if Gendry was with her, and if she was, what they could possibly be doing.

When he saw her, his eyes widened, and he immediately held the door open a bit wider for her to walk through, stepping aside to let her pass. They spoke no words to each other as Arya slid past him and made her way into the apartment.

When Arya walked inside, she saw Dany sitting on the couch in the living room, legs curled up underneath her and reading a book.

Daenerys looked up at Arya's entrance and smiled sadly at her, raising her hand slightly in a small wave. Arya smiled back. The look Dany was giving her made Arya think she already knew why Arya had come here in the first place.

She took a deep breath and turned to face Aegon.

Aegon closed the door behind him and stepped closer to her, searching for her hand and tangling his fingers through hers. "Come on," he said, pulling her towards his room. "I think we should talk about what happened last night."

Arya nodded. "Yeah, we should."

They entered his room and he closed the door.

He motioned for her to sit on his bed, and he joined her, the mattress dipping beneath them. Hesitantly, Aegon leaned forward and kissed her softly, gingerly, on the lips. "I'm sorry for how I reacted last night," he whispered against her lips.

"I think we should break up," Arya said, closing her eyes.

He leaned back, away from her. " _What_?"

Arya opened her eyes and bit her lip. "I think we need to break up. It's not working out. And we should stop this before someone ends up actually getting hurt."

For the first time in a long time, Arya felt a bit like her old self again. For the past three months, she'd been pretending to be someone she wasn't, smiling when she was supposed to, speaking when appropriate, saying all the right things. But it had gone a few steps too far. Even Sansa and her mother, of all the people in the world, had noticed the changes in her, and Sansa had mentioned more than a few times how she missed the old Arya, wondering where she had gone after Gendry had broken up with her.

"I don't understand," Aegon said, scooting back a few inches from her. "Is this about what happened last night?"

"No," she said. "Yes. I mean...it's  _both_. I've been pretending to be someone I'm not for the past three months because I've been trying to make everyone happy, and I've dragged you into this, and I'm  _sorry_  for that. It was not fair to you, but it's not fair to me, either. I should be happy, and the way to do that is to just be who I am, and be with someone who I truly love."

"Arya," Aegon began, his voice creeping higher and higher. "This isn't fair. You can't just decide when you want me. You can't just decide when you want to be in a serious relationship and when you get bored with me."

Arya scoffed. "I'm not deciding I'm bored with you and throwing you to the side like last week's news. I started a relationship with you for all the wrong reasons. We only got together because Gendry broke up with me and I was feeling lonely. That isn't the most romantic basis for a healthy and stable relationship."

"And your relationship with Gendry is so much better?"

"It's not because of Gendry that I'm breaking up with you!" Arya said. "It's because of me. I don't want to compromise my happiness and cheat you out of maybe someday finding someone who cares about you the same way."

Aegon shook his head fiercely. "So you're saying that you feel nothing for me? You're saying that this whole time, you've just been pretending to have feelings for me? When you told me that you wanted to be in a real relationship with me—after you were kissing Gendry on Renly's balcony, I might add—you didn't mean any of that? Were you just doing it out of guilt? To make your family happy that their daughter wasn't rocking the boat for once, or ruining their image?"

"I'm not saying any of that!" Arya exclaimed, standing up. "Maybe I did have feelings for you during these past four months. But maybe I also felt guilty and decided to be with you because of that. But the point is, I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to act that way anymore. I don't want to be the kind of girl I was before, not caring about what anyone had to say and doing the exact opposite, but I don't want to be a doll like everyone else wants me to be! I want to be better than I was before, and I can't do that if I'm in a relationship with someone I don't truly have feelings for!"

"And you have feelings for him?" Aegon asked.

Arya's breath caught in her throat as she tried to force the lie through her teeth.

But she couldn't do it. Not anymore. She was so sick of trying to lie about how she felt for the benefit of other people not even involved in her personal life. "I do," she said finally, saying it out loud for the first time in what felt like forever.

Aegon stood up with her, so close to Arya that their chests were touching. She was looking up at him angrily, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Marry me, Arya. Marry me and we can be better than my father and your aunt. They were young and stupid, but we can right their mistakes. They were supposed to be together forever, but they weren't, and  _we can_. This just...it can't be over."

Arya's eyes widened at his words, and she pulled away from him, her hands shaking nervously as she tried to explain herself. "Aegon,  _no_. I can't marry you. I can't date you. I can't even be here anymore. I don't  _want_  to. I can't spend the rest of my life pretending to be happy while the rest of the world moves on without me. I want to be happy for real, and that's not going to happen if I continue whatever this was supposed to be."

" _Arya_ —"

"This was all a mistake. I never should have led you on. I never should have told you that I wanted to be with you for real when I didn't. It was all for the wrong reasons, to make myself think that if I tried hard enough, I would eventually be happy with someone else other than the person I really loved all along."

He begins to say something else, but Arya turns her back on him.

For a moment, she fears that he'll continue speaking, grab her arm and keep her there until he finishes. But Aegon was never physical, and thankfully, he lets her go.

She makes her way out of the room, and when she walks back out into the living room, Daenerys is still sitting on the couch, the book perched delicately in her lap, but she was clearly not reading it.

"I'm sorry," Daenerys said before Arya could apologize first.

Arya is silent for a few moments before she puts her hand on the doorknob. "I am, too."


End file.
